When You Can Walk On Water, Take The Boat John Harricharan

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When

You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat) and
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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the

Boat,is a gentle reminder that the truth
works in mysterious ways.”
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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the

Boat is a needed reminder of the inner
power we all possess and an inspiring story
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“John Harricharan’s,

When You Can Walk on

Water, Take the Boat is eloquent and touch-
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Seven Spiritual Laws of Success

“John Harricharan brings the gift of a re-
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doorway of discovery. I delight in reading
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Alan Cohen -

author, The Dragon

Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the

Boat, is a friendly oasis of wisdom that will
help you make sense of this often madden-
ing experience we call living. You won’t
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Boat, is a remarkable book! It has stayed
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Carol Hyatt - Co-

author, When Smart

People Fail

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Other Books by John Harricharan

Morning Has been All Night Coming

Journey in the Fields of Forever

Remembering and other Poems

The Power Pause --

3 Minutes, 3 Steps to Personal

Success and Real Happiness

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When You Can Walk

on Water,

Take the Boat

John Harricharan

New World Publishing

Georgia, U.S.A.

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This book is a new, revised edition of the original text.

It has been completely reset in a typeface

designed for easy reading and contains the complete,

original text with some additions and changes.

WHEN YOU CAN WALK ON WATER, TAKE THE BOAT

Published by arrangement with the author

PRINTING HISTORY

New World Publishing edition published 1986, 1988, 1989

Berkley edition 1991 (six printings)

Editora Pensamento (Brazil) edition 1993

HarperCollins (UK), Aquarian edition 1994

Ediciones Luciernaga (Spain) 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999

Edizioni Amrita (Italy) 1997, 1999

Editions Amrita (France) 1997, 1999

All rights reserved.

First edition copyright © 1986 by John Harricharan

Revised edition copyright © 1999 by John Harricharan

ISBN: 0-943477-08-5

0-943477-09-3
(3 volume set)

A New World Book

New World Books are published by the

New World Publishing Company,

a division of

JHH & Associates, Inc., Georgia, U.S.A.

Printed in the United States of America

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Dedicated to

Malika Elizabeth, Jonathan Nian

and

Mardai Elizabeth Harricharan

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Special Thanks

I am eternally grateful to Anita Bergen who untiringly
shared the burdens of accuracy and coordination in
the preparation of this work. And a million thanks to
Robert “Butch” James, a very special friend, who made
it possible for this revised edition to be available.

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When You Can Walk

When You Can Walk

on Water,

on Water,

Take the Boat

Take the Boat

John Harricharan

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

I

think everyone enjoys the thrill of discovery, the

inner joy of unearthing some previously undetected

gem of thought, idea, or philosophical concept that one

is certain will soon become immensely popular and widely

heralded. I had that thrill and joy of discovery in 1985

when my dear friend John Harricharan sent me his “just

finished” manuscript for my opinion.

The manuscript bore the superficially humorous, but

Introduction

to the New Edition of

When You Can Walk on Water,

Take the Boat

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John Harricharan

spiritually challenging title, When You Can Walk on Water,

Take the Boat. I knew from my first read-through that the

world would soon be hearing a great deal about this beau-

tiful little book. I perceived that this marvelous, modern

parable would seize the imagination and the hearts of hun-

dreds of thousands of readers. Today, more than a de-

cade later, with its worldwide acclaim, its many awards

and prizes, my initial assessment has been proven accu-

rate over and over again.

In my Introduction to the first edition, published in

1986, I praised the manner in which John blended uni-

versal truths with effective storytelling techniques. The

first-person narrative depicts a series of crises and triumphs

within the world of commerce which coincided with a

pilgrimage of soul in the higher realms. Throughout the

text, John Harricharan the author and “John,” the narra-

tor, keep encouraging us to continue to pay our physical

dues and to continue to learn and to grow. Through a

powerful progression of dramatic lessons, “John” comes

to understand that all the pain, chaos, and confusion is

actually trying to teach us that we chose to put on the

fleshly clothes of Earth to fulfill a mission of spiritual

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

growth. All of the chaotic, swirling energy around us can

be interpreted as quagmires of death and depression —

or as opportunities for life and learning.

And now, more than twelve years after I penned the

introduction to the first edition of When You Can Walk on

Water, Take the Boat, I am honored to have been asked

once again to serve as the “host” who stands at the portal

of this unique and fascinating work — and I am more

eager than ever to invite new readers to explore its depths

and wonders.

Just as we all love the thrill of discovery, I am certain

that we would all like to meet some remarkable sage like

the mysterious Gideon, whom John, our narrator encoun-

ters within the pages of this book. And that, of course, is

the timeless enchantment of an extended allegory such

as When You Can Walk on Water. . . . Through the magic

of entering the vision that John Harricharan has trans-

lated onto these pages, we may each of us join him on a

spiritual pilgrimage that will lead us to the goal of higher

awareness and greater enlightenment.

Brad Steiger

Forest City, Iowa

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

T

he question asked most of me by those who read

this manuscript prior to its publication was, “Is

it true?” The question still asked of me after all these years

by many of those who’ve read this book is, “Is it really

true?” My answer, now as then, is the age-old question,

“What is Truth?” This is a book about you and me and

others of our world. The ancient truths are as old as the

hills, yet they shine ever so radiantly with newness when-

ever they are rediscovered.

Preface

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John Harricharan

It is no accident that you have picked up this book.

Perhaps, it is by “divine appointment” that we meet in

these pages to explore again the meaning of life. Perhaps,

in the exploration and adventures that follow, you would

rediscover and realize that you are a being of infinite power

and potential, limited only by your own beliefs about

yourself and the world.

What follows will mean different things to different

people. For some, it will be a lovely, other-worldly ad-

venture, but for others it will be a powerful re-awakening,

a life-changing experience.

Life is lived from within and one can never be hurt by

what appears to be happening outside. You can change

circumstances, if you so desire — for your only purpose

in life is to make choices. Once the choice is made, the

entire universe moves to bring into fruition that which

you chose.

Read on then, with an open mind and let yourself ask

you questions. Many of these truths you already know,

but may only have forgotten. Let us remember together

the true nature of our being.

John Harricharan

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xv

When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

When You Can Walk

on Water,

Take the Boat

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1

When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

Chapter One

I

t was evening time. Not completely dark, but with

traces of the day still remaining. Everyone had

left the office and I was there all alone completing the few

tasks that remain at the end of any day. It is not my nature

to work late, but today was somewhat different. Mixed

with a feeling of accomplishment was the frustration and

disappointment of not having completed all I would have

liked to do.

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John Harricharan

My office was at the end of the building, overlooking

the parking lot. The lot was empty save for my little car

which appeared to be waiting so patiently. Always it

seemed to be waiting for me, never complaining, always

nearby. “Time to leave,” I thought. “I’m already late.” If

there’s one consolation, it was that there wouldn’t be any

traffic at this hour.

Glancing through the window as I reached for my

attaché case, I noticed a blue car a few spaces removed

from mine. The hood was raised and it seemed as if some-

one was trying to fix something. It wasn’t unusual for

cars to limp into our parking lot with some problem or

other. I descended the stairs to the main door, set the

night alarm and walked out of the building.

The blue car was still there with its hood pried open.

With the idea of seeing whether I could be of any help, I

cautiously approached. Through the window in the dim

light, I saw a bearded face smiling back at me. “What

took you so long? I thought you might have changed your

mind,” he said. The nerve of the guy, I thought. A total

stranger, and he wanted to know what took me so long.

Ingratitude really bothers me. It struck me as somewhat

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

strange, however, that he seemed to have been expecting

me. A totally improbable assumption I felt, as I quickly

dismissed the thought.

Peering under the hood I shouted, “Try the motor once

more.” He did, and it immediately sprang to life and con-

tinued running with a beautiful purr as if nothing ever had

been the matter with it. The bearded one got out of his car,

walked up to me, thrust out his hand and said, “Hi! It’s

good to see you again for the first time. My name is Gideon.”

“Hello, Mr. Gideon, it’s nice to meet you,” I stammered,

shaking his outstretched hand. “My name is John.”

“Yes, I know,” he said. This took me by surprise. I had

never seen the man before. He wore blue jeans and a

flannel shirt and appeared to be somewhere between the

ages of fifty and sixty. He wasn’t tall. His hair was jet

black and neatly combed with one lock falling idly over

his right brow. The beard which was as black as his hair

was full and trimmed, but his eyes were his most no-

ticeable feature. Even in the dim light of the street lamp,

one could see those piercing orbs and know they had

lived a legend. Such determination in those eyes, and

yet, such kindness as well. Although I noticed all these

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John Harricharan

things in a split second, I kept staring at him all the while.

He smiled. “Beautiful weather we’re having,” he said.

I nodded indifferently. I couldn’t have cared less about

the weather at that moment. “How do you know my

name?” I quickly snapped.

“Oh, I guessed. Most everyone is Jim or John or Ron or

Tom.” He said it matter-of-factly, but there was something

in his voice that seemed to suggest that he really knew my

name. Maybe this was one of those set-ups I’d heard so

much about recently. Perhaps he was intent on doing me

harm — stealing or something. I had the overwhelming

urge to leave that spot and remove myself from his pres-

ence as fast as possible, but those eyes held me there.

“I see that you’re alarmed — concerned about your

safety,” he said, seeming to pull the very thoughts out of

my head. “No need to fear. Thanks for helping me with

the car. I thought no one would come at this hour, but

there you were! People these days are so afraid of every-

thing, of each other, of the dark, yes, even of themselves.

My gratitude to you, John.”

I figured that he had to be lying since I hardly did

anything to help him start his car. It just appeared to me

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

that the motor started the second I told him to try it again.

“Anyway,” I said, “I didn’t do anything, but you’re wel-

come nevertheless.”

“Perhaps we’ll meet again soon,” he said as I moved

toward my car.

“Perhaps,” I muttered, thinking how unlikely that

would be. He waved as I stepped into my car and drove

out of the parking lot.

By now it was very dark, and my wife and children

would be wondering where I was or whether I was stranded

on the road. It was the normal, short drive, no more than

15 minutes or so before I pulled up to the mailbox at the

bottom of our driveway. As is my custom everyday, I col-

lected the mail and started driving up to the garage. The

driveway is long and curving and the thought occurred to

me to make arrangements for snow removal for the win-

ter. It was far from winter and, yet, my tired mind was

already getting prepared.

I wondered about Gideon but brushed the thought

away, having felt I’d done my good deed for the day and

probably would never see him again. There were more

important things to do now, like dinner, walking the dog

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John Harricharan

and finally taking out the garbage. Dinner and then walk-

ing the dog would be pleasant. “Rajah,” my collie, was a

spirited, friendly animal, and a little run with him would

do both of us some good.

As I walked into the house, mail in one hand and attaché

case in the other, my son, Jonathan, was waiting for me.

Only three years old, he had no concept of time and so

was not too surprised to see me at that late hour. Laying

aside the mail and attaché case, I picked up Jonathan and

proceeded into the kitchen. My wife, Mardai, and daugh-

ter, Malika, greeted me warmly. The aroma of slowly sim-

mering chicken stew made me realize how hungry I was.

“What kept you so late today, John?” Mardai asked as

we sat down to dinner.

“Oh, nothing much. Just helped a fellow get his car

started.” Dinner over, I took care of the remaining chores,

helped put the children to bed and discussed some of

the day’s activities with Mardai. Finally, we watched a

short TV show and then I read for a little while. I love to

read, but there never seems to be enough time. Generally

I’m reading at least five books at different stages, going

from one to the other until I complete them all. It’s cer-

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

tainly not the best way to read books, but this way, I do

manage to get through them.

We decided to turn in, and only then did I feel the

fatigue of the day. Reflecting on my strange meeting with

Gideon, I fell asleep.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

Chapter Two

I

t’s my habit to wake up very early in the morning. I’m

one of those ridiculous fellows who finds it almost

impossible to sleep late. Whether I to go to bed at eight

o’clock in the evening or two in the morning, I still get up

by five or six. This morning being no exception, I was up

and ready to go by six-thirty. I said good-bye to my family

and drove the short distance to the office.

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John Harricharan

A breathtaking morning it was, indeed. The rays of the

sun streaming through the windows of the car warmed

my very being and made me want to sing for joy. Actu-

ally, ‘sing’ is not the word to describe the sounds I make

in the attempt, but in the car no one hears and there’s

the feeling of safety in that private cubicle. Except on

those rare occasions when a driver pulls up at a stop light,

looks at me quizzically and drives away, I’m not even

conscious of the quality of my singing.

I pulled into the parking lot half expecting to see the

blue car of the night before. Of course, it wasn’t there.

“What a strange man,” I thought. “I feel as if I know him

or have seen him someplace before. Perhaps it was at a

conference or a convention.” It wasn’t long, however,

before I was caught up in the day’s activities.

Things were not going too well for my business. We

had designed and built a portable device that was of use

to printers and photographers. It was an excellent

machine, capable of recycling the valuable chemicals

from their waste processing solutions. Although we’d

received a large number of compliments about it, sales

weren’t increasing as fast as we had expected and, as

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

everyone knows, compliments don’t pay the bills. I had

built an excellent management team and we were

expanding our horizons. But still, at times I felt so alone

in what I was doing.

The sound of the ringing phone woke me from my

reverie. It was our plant manager calling to inform me

that an entire production line had to be shut down immed-

iately. “Do whatever you can. I’ll be over shortly,” was all

I could say. Another phone call. The voice of my secre-

tary heralded the type of calls I would receive all day. “It’s

Mr. Abe Ludic,” she said. “Do you want me to tell him

you’ll call him later?”

“No, I’ll take it,” I replied.

She switched the call to my line and for the next five

minutes I explained to Mr. Ludic why a past due bill

remained unpaid.

Phone calls for the purpose of collecting past due pay-

ments coupled with the company’s financial situation were

enough to drive me to distraction. We had recently applied

for a substantial loan from a local bank only to have the

banker laugh at us.

Whenever I feel like becoming depressed, there is a

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John Harricharan

game I play with. It always seems to work. I stop doing

everything and say to myself, “Now, John, since you like

to do everything well, take the next ten or fifteen minutes

and become as depressed as possible. Wallow in your mis-

ery. Think of how terrible things are and how the entire

world is against you. Note how everyone you know goes

out of his way to make your life unpleasant. Think of how

very unfortunate you are. Now, as soon as the second hand

on your watch reaches twelve, start.” When the second

hand reaches twelve I try to become as miserable as pos-

sible. Within a few minutes I’m laughing so hard at the

absurd nature of my thoughts that the depression vanishes.

Somehow or other, I was able to make it through to

lunch time. We were able to get the production line back

on stream and Mr. Ludic agreed to wait for another week.

I don’t normally eat lunch. In fact, I could go without

breakfast and lunch without ever feeling uncomfortable.

Today was no exception. I had a strong urge, however, to

leave the office and go for an invigorating walk. It would

be refreshing, I thought, to get out of the office for a while.

I’d gone quite a few blocks when I decided to return

by an alternate route which would take me past a quaint

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

little restaurant. So demanding was my morning that I’d

taken a longer walk than usual. As I approached a corner,

I had the persistent feeling that there was an appoint-

ment I may have forgotten. I’ve been known to forget

appointments before so, instead of returning to the office,

I figured I’d use the pay phone in the restaurant, call my

office and check whether or not there was an appointment.

I quickly walked up to the restaurant, opened the door

and entered, looking for a phone. Although the restau-

rant bustled with lunch customers, I located one on the

other side of the room, went over and dialed my office. I

asked whether I had an afternoon appointment and was

assured that I didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief, but could

not shake the strange, nagging feeling that I had to meet

someone. Since I was already in the restaurant, I decided

to have a quick lunch.

I approached the hostess who looked at me, smiled

sweetly and said, “Mr. H., please follow me.” As I followed

her across the dining room, I thought how flattering it

was that she recognized me. It’s a small northeastern town

I live in. It’s an even smaller town that I work in. Almost

everybody knows one another. She led me to a table over

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John Harricharan

by the far corner near a window. I thanked her and even

before I was properly seated, she said, “Your other party

will be here soon.”

“My other party?” I asked. I was surprised since no

one, not even myself, knew I would be stopping at this

restaurant. Noticing my surprise, she looked around and

said, “Oh, here he is now. Enjoy your lunch.”

Up to my table strode Gideon. Ignoring my questioning

gaze, he seated himself, smiled and said, “Fine day it is.”

“Fine day it is, indeed! But what are you doing here?”

I asked not rudely, but rather out of surprise.

“Hope you don’t mind my joining you.”

“Of course not. But I certainly didn’t think I was going

to see you again so soon.” I was becoming somewhat

confused. First the incident in the parking lot, then the

strange urge to walk past the restaurant, followed by my

decision to have lunch and, finally, meeting Gideon

again. “Did you make reservations or plan to be here for

lunch today?”

“Yes, I made the reservations for both of us.”

“How did you know I’d be here? Even I didn’t know.”

“Just had a feeling. You have these feelings at times,

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

don’t you? The phone rings and you know who’s calling.

You think of someone you haven’t heard from in years

and you receive a letter from that person. Just had a hunch

that you’d be here and I took the chance.”

“I was thinking about you. I wondered whether I was

ever going to see the bearded man whose car broke down

in our parking lot. By the way, is everything fixed now?

Does it run OK?”

“Runs better than ever.” His eyes seemed even more

piercing than in our previous encounter. They seemed to

probe the very depths of my mind, leaving me to feel that

I could hide nothing from him. “Didn’t think you’d make

it this time either,” he continued, as if speaking to himself.

“Pardon me?”

“Oh, nothing. I talk to myself sometimes.”

“Well, since you’re here, I’ll say it’s good to see you,

again. Let’s have a quick bite because I’ve got to be back

at the office shortly.”

“One of your problems, John, is that you hurry too

much. Yesterday in the parking lot, you were in a rush.

Today at lunch, you’re in a hurry again. Take some time

to enjoy life. Everyone has the same measure of time, you

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16

John Harricharan

know. Twenty-four hours a day. It’s what you do with

your time that’s important.”

I really didn’t think I needed to be preached to today,

but I wanted to be as polite as possible. “It’s easy for you

to say,” I replied. “I have responsibilities, you know. A

business to run — things to do. Sometimes the burden

of it all gets to me.”

“Only if you let it. And everyone has responsibilities.

Do you know that the word responsibility could mean

‘ability to respond’? Do you have a business to run or do

you have a business that runs you?”

For someone I was meeting for only the second time,

he certainly had a lot of opinions about me. A good

philosophical discussion, however, always brightens

my day and besides, there was some truth in what he

had said. “You seem to have things nice and easy,”

I quipped. “Where do you work and what do you

do, anyway?”

A strange look came over those dark eyes. “Actually

I’m a trouble shooter,” he said, “a jack-of-all-trades, if

you will. What you’d probably call a consultant for my

company, if you know what I mean.”

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

“And your company?”

“It’s called G & M Enterprises, Inc. It’s not the car

company. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”

“Can’t say that I have. Is it a large corporation?”

“To a certain extent — very diverse — in many coun-

tries. World headquarters in the Big City with branch

offices throughout the country.”

“What do they make or do?”

“Somewhat of a service company, more or less.”

Sensing his reluctance to offer more information and

not wanting to be rude I asked, “Are you on vacation now?”

“No. Actually, I’m on assignment. I’ll be in this area

for a little while.”

“Do you live around here?”

“Not really. Just passing through. After completion of

my current assignment, I’ll be on the road again.”

“Well, I hope they give you a better car,” I said with a

laugh, remembering his problems of the evening before.

He smiled, and changed the conversation back to my

work. “So things aren’t going too well with your busi-

ness?” he asked.

“We’ve been struggling for a long time, a real long time,

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John Harricharan

Gideon. There are times when we think we see light at

the end of the tunnel, but more often than not it’s a freight

train. It’s tough.” I was surprised to find myself speaking

this way to a stranger. I normally don’t share my prob-

lems with those who aren’t close to me, but somehow

this time seemed different.

“Why struggle? A seasoned swimmer does not struggle

against the water. He flows with it, using it as a means of

reaching his goal. Don’t struggle, just follow the flow. Let

the river of life carry you.”

The restaurant was mostly empty now. In between our

conversation we’d managed to finish our brief lunch. Only

two tables across from us were occupied. I glanced at my

watch. It was time to go. But my strange friend wasn’t

ready to leave. He gave me the impression that he wanted

to tell me something. Again, I had that sense of forebod-

ing — not quite foreboding, but almost like I was getting

involved in things for which I wasn’t ready nor prepared.

I paid the bill and he offered to pay his share, but I refused.

He thanked me and got up.

“Do you have a business card?” I asked. He reached

into his pocket, pulled out a card and handed it to me.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

“Thank you. I must say good-bye now and get back to

that crazy job I have,” I said.

“Be grateful that you have a job to go to,” he replied.

We walked to the door and went outside. I hoped he

wasn’t setting me up for something. I’m somewhat of a

pushover when I like someone and I was beginning to

take a liking to this stranger.

As we said good-bye I told him I hoped we’d meet

again soon. He nodded and said, “Who knows? It really

is a small world.” He turned, waved and left.

I walked back toward my office. All during lunch I felt

an aura of kindness and, strangely enough, power around

Gideon. Now back in the sunlight, the apparent mystery

seemed to vanish.

The afternoon passed smoothly without as many diffi-

culties as the morning. Several times I glanced through

the window into the parking lot where I’d first seen

Gideon. Perhaps, we’d meet again.

There was going to be a little dinner party at my house

this evening. Just a few friends and neighbors getting

together to enjoy each other’s company. It was beginning

to get dark. Possibly a storm was on the way, I thought.

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John Harricharan

You never can tell with the weather these days. I decided

to leave early to reach home before the rain came.

I was about to pull into my driveway when all the drive-

way lights went out. I thought, perhaps, the impending

storm had something to do with it. Then the storm broke.

Such fury of wind and rain I’ve rarely seen. The rain was a

sheet of white water alternating with the reflection of bril-

liant flashes of lightning. The blasts of thunder reminded

me of the legends of the gods on Mount Olympus hurl-

ing thunderbolts at their enemies. I could hardly see as I

drove up the driveway and, since the electricity was out,

I couldn’t open the garage door either. After parking the

car, I rushed into the house, getting drenched in the few

seconds it took me to do so.

All was dark inside except for the areas lit by the few

candles Mardai had found. Our dinner guests arrived and

we made the best of a poor situation. We ate by candle-

light and marveled at the many faces of nature.

“It seems really strange to me, John,” one of the guests

remarked.

“What seems strange?” I asked.

“The fury and nature of this storm. I just telephoned

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

a neighbor down the street and he said that it didn’t

rain there.”

“Didn’t rain there? A few blocks away? How can

that be?”

“And all their lights are on,” he continued.

It was strange to see a storm that occurred in only a

few square blocks. For no apparent reason I thought of

Gideon. Immediately there was a blinding flash of light-

ning and all our lights came back on. We discussed the

storm for a little while longer. Personally, I seemed to

connect it with something having to do with Gideon. Yet,

that made no sense.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

Chapter Three

T

wo weeks had passed since I last saw Gideon.

Things at the office seemed a little worse and busi-

ness was not getting any better. Our newly-invented device

was not selling as we’d expected. We were fast approach-

ing another financial crisis. In the past few years, it began

to seem as though my life had been a journey from crisis

to crisis with only brief pauses in between. Then, unex-

pectedly, I had to make a trip to the Midwest.

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John Harricharan

A potential account we had been courting for the past

six months suddenly exhibited tremendous interest in our

product. It would be a short trip, just two days. All travel

and hotel arrangements made, it was soon time to leave.

No matter how many times I’ve flown, there’s always a

sense of excitement as I approach an airport. The noise of

the jets generate thoughts of faraway places that intrigue

me, but this was a business trip and all my thoughts had

to be concentrated on the matter at hand.

After a pleasant flight, it was but a short cab ride to my

hotel. I would be ready in the morning for my meeting

with Mr. Seymour, the head of the company. I had never

met Mr. Seymour in person but hoped he would receive

my proposal in a favorable manner. A good night’s rest

and I would be raring to go, I thought. As I was filling out

the necessary registration form, the desk clerk smiled and

said, “We have a message for you, Mr. H.” I opened the

note. It stated simply that M. Tarkas would meet me later.

Perhaps it was Mr. Seymour’s idea to send someone to

meet me.

I went to my room, unpacked my small overnight bag

and took a quick shower. Then I phoned home to let

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

everyone know I’d arrived safely. When it was time for

dinner, I went down to the dining room. As I was walking

across the lobby, a lady stepped up to me and said, “Hi!

I’m Marla Tarkas. You’re John!”

“Should I know you?” I asked, momentarily startled.

“Gideon told me you’d be here and asked that I offer

my help.”

Ah, here we go, I thought. Gideon again. And I hadn’t

seen him in weeks. Who was this woman, anyway? How

had Gideon known about my trip? Perhaps, he had called

my office and someone had mentioned it to him. But my

secretary never gives out that kind of information. I must

admit that I resembled a giant question mark as I stood

there looking at Marla.

She smiled at me sweetly. “May I join you for dinner?

We’ll talk more then.” I nodded numbly and we went to

the dining room. When we were seated, I looked at Marla

with evident discomfort.

She was beautiful but had a distant look, as if deep in

thought. Her eyes were blue and her hair seemed to reflect

a golden glow. She appeared to be perhaps 25 or so, but

certainly not more than 30.

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John Harricharan

“How long have you known Gideon?” I asked.

“Oh, for ages,” she said, smiling.

“I haven’t seen him in weeks. And I really don’t know

Gideon that well. Had lunch with him once. Are you

good friends?”

“He’s one of my closest friends. We’ve been through a

lot together.”

“I wonder how Gideon knew about my trip,” I said,

hoping that Marla would shed some light on this. But all

she said was, “Gideon knows many things and has his

own ways of finding out.”

I rolled this around in my mind for a few seconds, but

could make no sense of it. Then I asked, “Do you work

around here?”

“Not too far away.”

“What’s the name of your company?”

“You probably never heard of it, but it’s called G & M

Enterprises, Inc. I’m in the PR Department.”

“Isn’t that the same company Gideon works for?”

“Yes, but he’s in a different department,” she replied.

It was now all clear to me. Gideon and Marla knew

each other because they worked for the same company.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

Gideon found out, one way or another, about my trip,

called Marla and asked her to help me. He was only try-

ing to repay a favor. It was so simple. Yet, why go to such

extremes to repay a small favor? All I did was help him to

get his car started, or so I thought.

The rest of dinner was spent telling Marla about my

meeting with Mr. Seymour in the morning and the large

contract my company hoped to land. We even talked a

bit about the state of the economy. When we were through

with dinner, she insisted on paying the bill. I objected,

but she wouldn’t hear of it. “You’re my guest, John,” she

simply said.

As we left the table, she wished me success with my

meeting the next day. I thanked her politely for dinner

and for the time she had spent with me. Then she men-

tioned something about my receiving a phone call later

that evening and was gone before I could question her.

Since I wasn’t expecting any phone calls, I was puzzled.

Perhaps I thought, I’d misunderstood and Marla herself

would call later.

I returned to my room, relaxed and read for a while.

Whenever I travel, I always take along a few good books.

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John Harricharan

This trip was no exception, so I stayed up and read while

waiting for the phone call Marla had mentioned.

It was getting late and I needed a good night’s rest to

be fresh and ready to go in the morning. No phone call

yet. I definitely must have misunderstood Marla. Think-

ing of what the following day would bring, I put away my

book, turned off the lights and fell asleep. And as I slept,

I dreamed.

In my dream, I went to a nearby city. There was an

appointment I had to keep so, after locating the correct

building, I went in. Behind a long desk sat a young lady

whom I assumed was the receptionist. She looked up at

me and before I could tell her the purpose of my visit she

said, “Please wait. I must leave for a few minutes,” and she

was gone. While I waited for her return the phone rang. I

hoped it would stop, at least until she returned, but it kept

on and on as if determined to have me answer it.

When I could no longer ignore the ringing I finally

picked up the receiver, if only to tell the other party that

the receptionist would be back later. “Hello,” I said. A

friendly voice on the other end spoke, “Hi! Good morn-

ing. May I speak with Mr. Seymour, please?”

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

“I’m sorry, sir. The receptionist just stepped away from

her desk for a short while. In fact, I’m awaiting her return,”

I said.

“Please, could you ask her when she returns to give

Mr. Seymour a message for me?” he asked.

“Why certainly,” I said, nervously trying to help.

“Please ask her to tell Mr. Seymour that Godfrey called.

I’ve been talking with the Wittersham account and they

are extremely interested. Mr. Wittersham himself is on

his way over and will sign all necessary papers.” I agreed

to convey his message for which he thanked me and hung

up. When the receptionist returned, I gave her the mes-

sage. She then asked me to follow her and we went into

an office where a distinguished looking gentleman was

sitting at his desk. He rose and introduced himself. “I’m

Seymour,” he said. “Please sit.”

Mr. Seymour told me that his company would buy our

products if one of his largest accounts, the Wittersham

Company, agreed to distribute them. He told me a little

about Mr. Wittersham and how the Wittersham Com-

pany grew from a small beginning to become one of the

largest in its industry. Wittersham, it seemed, was from

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John Harricharan

the old school, conservative, had little patience and was a

hard man to deal with. The only topic that he was ever

interested in was the sea and he would literally spend

hours talking about it.

Mr. Seymour was pleased that I had come. “Make sure

you tell Wittersham about your early days by the ocean,”

he said, and all of a sudden the dream ended and I was

awake in bed. It was a most vivid dream and thinking

about it kept me awake for quite some time.

Finally, it was morning and I got up and prepared for

my meeting with Mr. Seymour. After breakfast, I took a cab

to his office. All the buildings were tall and clustered together

in what appeared to be the main commercial area of the

city. I paid my fare and walked into the building where

Seymour’s office was located. Without much waiting, I was

ushered in to see him. The expression on my face was one

of pure astonishment when I discovered that the real Mr.

Seymour and the Mr. Seymour of my dream were exactly

alike in physical features. I had never seen this man before

and the coincidence seemed remarkable.

We talked for a while about my company’s new prod-

uct. He would be willing to do some business with us he

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

said, but that would depend on one of his largest dis-

tributors. There was a knock at the door and an assistant

rushed in and whispered to Mr. Seymour. Seymour smiled,

looked at me and said, “I’m told that old James Witter-

sham just arrived and he’s insisting on seeing me imme-

diately.” He turned to the assistant who stood awaiting

his reply and asked her to show Mr. Wittersham in.

At first glance, Wittersham hardly seemed friendly.

He gave a quick nod when I was introduced and started

talking immediately. “Look now, Seymour. I don’t have

much time. Tell me about this product you want me

to handle.”

The whole scene appeared to be a replay of my dream

from last night. I finally grew brave enough to look Mr.

Wittersham straight in the eye and say, “Sir, perhaps I

could be of some help. I’m from the company that manu-

factures the machine we’re discussing. If you could give

me five minutes of your time, I’ll explain why our prod-

uct is so good.”

“Good? I don’t want good! Damn! I want the best.”

“I was just being modest. It’s the best on the market.”

Wittersham was a study in marble. Deep lines creased

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John Harricharan

his face as he looked from me to Seymour and said, “Let’s

get on with it then.”

I spent the next few minutes explaining all the benefits

of our product. Wittersham appeared utterly unimpressed.

Finally, in exasperation and in an effort to clutch at straws,

I remembered my dream about Wittersham and the sea

and concluded, “So you see, Mr. Wittersham, we make

an excellent product. Incidentally, I wish you would visit

our manufacturing facilities on the East Coast. Some lovely

restaurants by the sea.” He quickly looked at me and

asked, “By the sea? Do you go there often?”

“Oh yes!” I responded, “I love to go down to the sea.”

“I wish the ocean was closer to us,” he mused. Pursu-

ing the only possibility afforded me I said, “I was born

not too far from the ocean. I spent many years of my life

a stone’s throw from the mighty Atlantic. I’d awake every

morning to the sound of breakers. I’d watch the sea change

from a silvery white in the morning to a deep dark blue in

late afternoon.” Seymour was looking at me and I could

feel the frustration in his gaze as we discussed the sea.

But the change on Wittersham’s face was amazing. Gone

was the scowl and he was now smiling.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

“We must speak more about the sea one of these days,”

said Wittersham. “I myself am an old salt.” Turning to

Seymour, Wittersham continued, “Seymour, I like this

young man. I’ll be happy to have my company distribute

your product.” Then he abruptly got up, said good-bye

and left.

I could hardly contain myself. After so many months

we’d finally landed one of the largest accounts in this

business. Seymour would now take on our product

because his largest distributor wanted it. The dark clouds

of depression were lifting and my spirit had already taken

wings. I couldn’t wait to tell them about it back home.

Seymour and I continued our conversation but it was

now in a lighter vein. We talked about boyhood days when

I stood on the shores of the Atlantic and gazed as far as the

eye could see. How the passing of tramp steamers with

smoke stained stacks would carry my thoughts to distant

shores. How the tall ships with billowing, white sails would

conjure up visions of mystic climes and far-off places. I

told him of the many times I stood by a tree on the beach

wondering if there were other boys standing on other

shores looking out and wondering, just as I was doing.

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John Harricharan

I told him it was the song of the sea that lured me from

my birthplace, led me through tropic isles with balmy

breezes and finally set me down in the northeast portion

of the United States. He smiled as I mentioned the song

of the sea and how the thought of the trade winds still

strongly calls to me, somewhat like the singing of the

sirens to a tired Ulysses.

Finally it was time to leave. Seymour agreed to have all

the necessary documents signed and sent to me within a

few days. He promised to work very closely with us to

make the project a success. We said good-bye and I took

my leave of him and returned to the hotel. It had been an

exciting morning.

Marla was waiting for me in the lobby. “I trust you had

a productive morning,” she said with a quick smile.

“Very productive,” I replied, and as an after-thought

mentioned that no one had called me last evening.

“Of course you got the call,” she replied with a wink.

“No! Nobody called me last night,” I insisted, some-

what puzzled.

“Didn’t you receive a call for a Mr. Seymour? And wasn’t

a Mr. Wittersham discussed? And didn’t the call contain

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

important information which you used during your meet-

ing today? Have you forgotten your dream?”

I almost fell over. I’d told no one about my dream, not

that there was anyone to tell, anyway. Yet Marla knew

about it. In fact, it seemed she knew exactly what dream

I was going to have that night. I stared at her in awe. She

seemed in some ways so similar to Gideon, especially in

the way she said things. Noticing my discomfort, she

calmly said, “Don’t be alarmed. You’ll understand more

soon. Your flight leaves at six, so I’ll pick you up at four.

This way, we’ll have enough time to get you to your plane.”

Before I could answer, she turned, waved and was gone.

Puzzled and intrigued by the turn of events, I went to

my room, packed my things, relaxed for a while to think

over the events of the day and promptly fell asleep, thus

missing lunch. When I awoke, it was almost four o’clock,

so I quickly collected my things and went down to the

lobby to check out and await Marla’s arrival. I tried to put

out of my mind any thoughts about her and Gideon and

their strange ways.

Marla was punctual and we made it to the airport in

record time. In spite of the rush hour traffic, it almost

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seemed as if vehicles moved out of the way for us. Before

saying good-bye, Marla mentioned she was extremely

happy to have been of some help to me, that any friend of

Gideon’s was a friend of hers and it wouldn’t be too long

before all of us met again. I thanked her, wished her well,

and boarded my flight.

Much as I tried to push Marla and Gideon out of my

mind, thoughts of their strange ways haunted me and

raised a thousand questions during the flight. I finally

managed to engross myself in one of the in-flight maga-

zines, knowing that in a few hours I’d be home.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

Chapter Four

O

n my way to the office the following morning,

I couldn’t help but reflect on the events of the

past few days. Without a doubt, the trip was an amaz-

ing success. I wondered whether Mr. Wittersham would

have agreed to distribute our products had it not been

for the conversation about the sea. And how would I

ever have thought about talking of the ocean had it not

been for the meeting I’d dreamt about? In a never-ending

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John Harricharan

circle these thoughts raised more questions about Gideon

and Marla. The more I thought of it, the more complex

it seemed.

The sound of a car horn woke me from my reverie. It

was an old Volkswagen passing me on the left. I briefly

wondered why the driver sounded his horn, since I was

already in the right lane. As it passed me, however, I

noticed the word “GIDEON” on its license plate. My

attention diverted, I almost ran into a telephone post.

This is crazy, I thought.

Within minutes of my arrival at the office, the tele-

phone rang. It was my private line. The ringing startled

me since it was still only seven in the morning and I wasn’t

expecting any calls so early. Only three people had the

number for my private line: one was Mardai and the other

two were extremely close friends. I picked up the hand-

set. It was Gideon.

“How did you get this number?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t you first ask how I’m doing?” he answered.

Dutifully I asked, “How are you Gideon?” followed

quickly by, “How did you get this number?”

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions and that’s why I

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

called. Listen, John, we’ll meet in the park at lunch time

and I’ll explain everything.” He hung up — as abruptly

as that.

At first, I thought I’d ignore the incident and stay as far

away from these people as possible, but my curiosity got

the best of me and I relented.

It was almost noon when I left the office for the short

walk to the park. Gideon, hopefully, would be there to

provide some explanations for the perplexing things that

had occurred. It was a lovely, sunny day. Cradled by the

warmth, I felt like sitting under a tree and practicing

changing the shapes of clouds. I found it both exciting

and relaxing at the same time. You pick a small cloud at

first and then try to mold it in your mind into various

vapory sculptures. As you become more proficient, you

choose larger and larger clouds. You may even want to

vaporize them entirely or create new ones where there

weren’t any before. It is amazing how easily it works

with practice.

Arriving at the park, I picked a spot under a large oak

tree, where a bench was located. I sat down and waited

for Gideon while observing the birds and squirrels. It was

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John Harricharan

peaceful and, strangely, almost other-worldly beautiful. A

blue jay was pecking at a piece of bread someone had

dropped, and the wind ran races through the growing

grass. Except for me, there wasn’t anyone else in the park.

A voice interrupted, “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting

long.” Startled, I turned around and there was Gideon.

“Funny, I didn’t see you approaching,” I said.

This time he was dressed in a sailor’s uniform, as if

he had been out sailing. He sat down next to me on the

bench and began biting into an apple he’d brought along.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.

“No, I’m going to skip lunch today.”

“Are you sure? I have another apple, if you like.”

“No, thank you.”

We both sat for a while in silence before I blurted out,

“How did you know about my trip? How did you get my

telephone number and anyway, who is Marla?”

“Slow down, John. One question at a time. You’ve been

wondering about how I know certain things. Let me tell

you. I know many things. You know them, too. However,

you just don’t remember them. Some of us remember

much more than others. Think again of how many things

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

you have known without ever being able to figure out

how you knew them.”

“Is that all? Are you a psychic or something like that?

You see things before they happen? I know a lady who

could do that.”

“That, I am, too. But much more is involved. It’s one

way of explaining it.”

“You’re more than a psychic? Who are you? What are

you?”

He looked at me quizzically with a semi-pleased expres-

sion on his bearded face. “Of course I’m more than a

psychic,” he said. “I am Gideon. I am who I am. I am I.”

I had come here for answers, not to listen to more

riddles. Those were answers any schoolboy could give. I

was determined more than ever, to get to the bottom of

this. “Who is this Marla Tarkas?” I asked.

“Did you like her? I hoped you would. An extremely

fine energy form she is.”

“And an extremely fine physical form, too. But who is

she? What’s this business that you people are involved

in? Is this a cult?”

He became much more serious now. “No, John, not a

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John Harricharan

cult as you would think. There are some of us who are

involved in certain types of work that are different from

the ones you have been accustomed to. We are joined

together by bonds that go back into eternity. Marla is

one. So am I and, of course, so are you.”

I stopped him right there. “It’s fine for you and Marla

to be . . . well . . . whatever you are or want to be, but

leave me out of this.” I was becoming somewhat annoyed

and uncomfortable with his answers, but he continued.

“You know me as Gideon. And that I am. But a name

doesn’t tell much. I am what is called, a ‘helper of man-

kind.’ I come from way before your time and go far beyond

your guess. I come from anytime and anyplace and could

go anywhere and anywhen.”

I sat glued to the wooden bench. I had known that

he was strange, but not this strange. I never really took

him too seriously before, but now he was dead serious.

On occasion, I did wonder how he knew things about

me and my work that I hadn’t told him. I’d heard about

such people before. I had also not discounted the possi-

bility of meeting one, in fact, I had hoped that I would

someday. Yet, when one sits next to you on a park bench,

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

your initial reaction is to run away — and as fast as

possible. But sitting there with him, I actually felt an

aura of tremendous power around him and thought I

should probably give this encounter a bit more serious

consideration.

“You speak as if you’re from another world, Gideon.

You also seem to have strange abilities and powers. Why

are you spending so much time with me? What do you

want from me?”

“My abilities are no stranger than yours or anyone

else’s. They may appear strange to you because you do

not understand them. When you understand natural law,

nothing is strange, nothing is a miracle. I have been

around helping others for ages. Or better yet, through-

out time. There is an old earth saying that goes, ‘When

the student is ready, the teacher will appear.’ You’re

ready, so here I am.”

“Who? Me, a student? I wasn’t looking for a teacher.

I’ve had my share of teachers and don’t want to take any

more exams. As it is these days, I am already being tested

to the limit. Teachers and students imply tests.”

“So you think you’ve learned everything and have no

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John Harricharan

further need for teachers? If you’re so brilliant, how come

your financial empire is falling apart? Listen. All of life is

an examination, a learning and testing experience, if you

will. You examine and test yourself constantly. A little

help now and then wouldn’t hurt, you know. There are

things I still can teach you. No, let me rephrase. There

are things I could lead you to learn. Things I could help

you to remember.”

Part of me really wanted to believe him. The other part

was the scientific, analytical part which was very cautious.

That part said that he was crazy. And yet, I’ve seen few

men who appeared to be more sane than he.

“Show me something — a small miracle or so, and I’ll

believe what you’re saying.”

“Believe and I’ll show you. You have things reversed,

John. I see we have a lot of work to do.”

In a quick change of direction, I asked, “Where’s your

car? Where are you parked?”

“There are many other ways of traveling. I don’t really

need a car.”

Again he was lying, I thought. The first time I met him,

he was in a car.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

As if reading my thoughts, he said, “When you saw me

the first time, I did have a vehicle. I needed something to

get your attention. So the car, the engine problem, the lifted

hood . . . all props, all effects for your sake. You wouldn’t

have stopped to talk with me any other way.”

All this in such a short time was becoming too much

for me to absorb. As I mentioned earlier, it had always

been my desire to meet someone like him. In books and

dreams I had come across some, but here and now in

a park in this small town? This was an entirely dif-

ferent matter. And why did he pick me? He still hadn’t

answered that to my satisfaction. I was quiet for a

few moments.

Gideon continued, “I have known you for eons, for mil-

lennia. You are a challenge to me. One part of you accepts

these ideas totally and with full understanding. Then there

is the other part of you that sees only with eyes and hears

only with ears. That part tries to analyze, rationalize and

compromise. You are a man of many parts, Mr. H.”

Gideon’s reference to knowing me for ages was a sur-

prise, but I had read about such things before and chose

not to pursue it at this point. Not being in a big hurry to

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John Harricharan

return to the office, I thought that I’d listen to a little

more of what he had to say.

He spoke of seeing with the inner eye and of hearing

with the inner ear. That all life forms were connected to

one another by invisible ties. That the universe was like a

spider’s web, where thought or action in one area affected

the entire fabric. I listened, fascinated by the new possi-

bilities he brought to my mind. Finally, he said, “It was

good seeing you again, John. We will continue our dis-

cussion at a later date. Meanwhile, keep an open mind. I

bid you a fond adieu.”

I looked at him and then at my watch. When I glanced

up again, he was gone. It couldn’t have been more than a

second later yet, he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps I

had fallen asleep on the park bench and dreamed it all.

But no! A few yards away was an apple core he had left for

the birds. It was time to return to the more mundane

aspects of life, so I got up and walked back to the office.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

Chapter Five

T

he days rolled slowly by, summer blending into

autumn. Those lovely, lazy, fall days when all you

want to do is sit under a tree and dream of far-off horizons

and distant shores. I hadn’t seen or heard from Gideon in

a while and wondered what had become of him.

Although he’d made a strong impression on me, I pre-

ferred not to analyze it. I was somewhat familiar with what

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John Harricharan

he’d said, since I had read books about these ideas. I

even had some friends who were considered to be psy-

chically gifted, but still Gideon had a different effect on

me. He’d spoken of the awesome potential of the human

mind and of how we only used a small portion of it. He’d

pointed out that most people were content to be left in

their misery and that these same people refused to see

the very light that would change their misery to joy. I

could almost hear his voice again as he spoke to me that

day in the park.

A close friend of the family would be visiting soon.

June Mareena Ridley was a very special friend. She was a

clairvoyant, a person who could see events before they

happened. At parties and get-togethers, she would do

“mind stuff” that never ceased to amaze everyone.

I met her many years ago when I was completing a gradu-

ate business degree, part-time, at a major university. I had

just finished my last class of the evening and was leaving

when a poster on the bulletin board caught my attention.

It stated that the internationally renowned psychic, June

M. Ridley, would be giving a lecture and demonstration

in the auditorium at 10:30 AM the following day.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

Never having met a real psychic, I thought it would

be interesting to see one in action. At that time, I was

employed by a small manufacturing company and had

responsibilities in the production area. Because I was new

at the job, it would be difficult to leave during regular

working hours to attend the lecture.

At work the next morning, however, a nagging, uneasy

feeling came over me. I had a strong urge to attend the

lecture. It was as if I was being pulled to go and listen to

June. The more I tried to overcome the feeling, the stron-

ger it became. Finally, I gave in to the compulsion. Giv-

ing a feeble excuse to my boss, I then drove as fast as I

legally could to the university.

It was shortly after 10:30 AM when I arrived and the

lecture had already started. I intensely dislike being late.

Generally, I arrive for an appointment early and would

rather wait in a parking lot or reception area than be even

one minute late. This time, however, I couldn’t help it. I

rushed into the auditorium. Almost every seat was occu-

pied. In the front row, however, there was a lone, empty

seat which I quickly took. It was so quiet in the room you

could hear a pin drop.

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John Harricharan

Standing at the podium was an attractive, middle-aged

woman of medium height. She looked at me, smiled and

continued her lecture. I felt the audience’s annoyance at

my late arrival and I angrily thought to myself, “I want to

be late, OK?” But after a few moments the meaning of

what the woman was saying caught up with me. She told

us about her ability to see things before they occurred

and how she was able to give what are called “readings”

to people. She explained that she was born with the “gift

of seeing,” that each and every human being had the abil-

ity to develop those same talents. She spoke of God, angels

and spirits, of different dimensions and different worlds.

I was just beginning to think that I’d wasted the entire

morning when she decided to give us a demonstration of

her natural abilities.”

She asked if anyone in the audience had ever seen

or met her before in person. No one had. Beginning

with the back of the room, she pointed to people at

random and told them a little about themselves and their

lives. To one especially nervous woman, she said, “Your

friend Elizabeth will be getting married soon and will

be moving out of the area. She is so concerned about

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her sick mother that she needs all the support you

can give her. Do you understand what I mean?” The

woman was simply astounded. “Yes! Yes! That’s so true,”

she stammered.

After a few more “readings” she turned to a tall, dark

man somewhere in the middle rows. “The trucking busi-

ness which you are about to start will become a tremen-

dous success,” she said. “Watch out, however, for one of

your partners — the short one with the beard and funny

hat. He will try to take control of the company away from

you. Do you understand what I am talking about?”

“That’s amazing,” said the man. “Absolutely amaz-

ing. There’s no way you could know about my trucking

business and my partners,” and he kept shaking his head

in astonishment.

By this time, I was becoming very excited about the

possibility of my turn. June pointed to a few others and

gave each of them some important bits of information,

but totally ignored me. Perhaps, she’s disregarding me as

punishment for my tardiness I thought with paranoia, but

I knew that couldn’t be the reason.

Finally, because she’d been speaking for such a long

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time, she asked if someone could bring her a glass of

water. Here was my opportunity to be noticed. Up I

jumped and rushed to the water fountain in the hallway.

Using a paper cup, I hurriedly brought June some water.

Surely now she would notice me and tell me something

about my future. Again I was wrong. Not one word did

she say to me.

As the lecture came to an end, I sat there, progres-

sively more dejected. After she thanked everyone for com-

ing, she looked at me and said, “Young man, I’ll see you

later. What I have to tell you wouldn’t be understood by

anyone here, least of all by you.” I was surprised, but

happy to have the chance to speak with her in private.

The professor who organized the lecture arranged for

me to see June a short while later. It was one of the most

amazing visits I’d ever had with anyone. Without having

seen me before or knowing anything about my past, she

told me about my job, my family and where and how I

lived. She said that in less than six months I would have

a new job, but that I shouldn’t be concerned about it. It

would be the birth of something wonderful for me, but

she said, like all births it would be painful for a short

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while. She continued for almost an hour telling me about

my past, present and future and touched on things that

only I could know. While she was speaking, she seemed

to be in another world. Her voice was soft and peaceful.

Then as our meeting ended, she gave me her phone num-

ber and said, “I would really like to meet you again. You

and your wife should come visit soon.” And so, we did a

few months later.

We soon became very good friends. Many of the things

she foretold began to take place. In less than six months

I’d lost my job when the company moved to another state.

Although I remained unemployed for a while before find-

ing another position, I used the time to start my own

small, part-time business. Since then, many things

changed for the better. The company grew and diversi-

fied. We moved from our apartment into a house and

then a few years later into a much larger one.

Throughout the years, June remained a constant friend

and advisor. Every six months or so, between her radio

shows or television interviews, she would visit us for a

week or two. These visits were always very special. By

this time, Mardai and I were the parents of two beauti-

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ful children and June would spend hours with them.

Little Malika was a favorite of June’s and Jonathan

would keep her busy for hours. So it was with joy and

excitement that we were, once again, awaiting June’s

arrival. We had not seen her in almost six months so,

there would be much to talk about. We were now totally

used to her strange abilities and hardly questioned them

at all. We had certainly seen enough over the years to

know that she had that rare “gift of seeing.”

I wondered what Gideon was doing. With June’s arrival,

I’d almost completely forgotten about him. At the dinner

table, June told us about her most recent television inter-

view. It was always interesting listening to her describe

these events. Although she would give readings to any-

one, her clientele also included some well-known public

figures. Movie stars, politicians and high level business

leaders consulted with her on a regular basis.

A short while later, with the children tucked into bed,

June, Mardai and I retired to the family room. Our house

was built in the shape of an “H” with the sleeping area

occupying one side. The living rooms — there were two

— were located in the center of the “H” and the kitchen,

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dining room and family room were on the other side.

Because the family room was completely separated from

the bedrooms, it was possible for us to talk and laugh to

our hearts’ content without disturbing the children who

were sleeping peacefully.

On one side of the room was a fireplace and across

from that stood a piano, a gift from my wife’s parents.

The piano bench was pulled slightly away from the piano.

We’d been talking for just a short while when June turned

to me and said, “The man sitting on your piano bench

says that he’s here to help you understand new things.”

Having known June for such a long time we should have

been used to such comments, especially when only the

three of us were there and I was the only man present.

I looked across and saw only an empty bench. “What

man are you talking about, June?” I asked.

She said, “The one over there. He’s now looking at

you and smiling.”

“Don’t do that to us. You know I can’t see anyone

sitting there.”

“He says you know him, John, that you’ve met before.

He has a beard and dark, piercing eyes. He says he wants

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to help you in your growth and learning and that you’ve

been ‘going through’ experiences instead of ‘growing

through’ them.”

That’s Gideon — the description fit him perfectly.

“What’s his name, June?”

“I can’t get the exact sound but it seems to be Simeon

. . . or no . . . it has a ‘G’. It starts with a ‘G’. His name is

Gideon. He said that you ought to know the spelling

because not too long ago you saw it on a license plate. He

laughed as he said that. He said that you ought to keep

an open mind. He’s saying good-bye now and that he’ll

see you again soon. Now he’s gone.”

So, it was Gideon again. But I couldn’t see him this

time. Neither could Mardai. Only June saw him. But then,

she always saw things others could not. We discussed this

for a while and I recounted how I met Gideon and the

events that occurred thereafter. June seemed to under-

stand and, like Gideon, asked that I keep an open mind.

“It’s your strict scientific background that causes you

to stumble many times, John.”

Maybe she was right. I was always trying to be logical

about everything. In my college days, I was trained as a

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chemist and mathematician — labs, research and analyz-

ing. Perhaps, more than most, I insisted on seeing before

believing. And this, in spite of the fact that I knew and

accepted June and her abilities.

Yet, the most successful times in my life were when I

guided myself by the “still, small voice.” Some people

call it gut feelings, others call it intuition. The times that

caused me the most problems were those when I drowned

out the inner voice with logic and analysis. I really needed

to learn how to re-program my thinking. I decided then

and there to balance logic and intuition, to let them work

together instead of against each other and to follow the

inner guidance more consistently.

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Chapter Six

O

n Sunday morning June departed for home.

We said our good-byes, promising to meet

again soon. Her last words to me were, “Remember, the

man on the piano bench will be in touch with you, John.

Listen to him and keep an open mind.”

In an effort to clarify the many confusing thoughts in

my mind, I decided to go for a walk in the woods behind

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my house. Since he likes nothing better than to run free

in the forest, I took Rajah with me. About three hundred

yards from the house if you go north by northwest, is a

small, open area in the middle of the trees and bushes. In

that clearing is a giant rock with many smaller rocks sur-

rounding it. Legend was that centuries ago, a mysterious

tribe of American Indians lived in this area. Perhaps, I

thought, this was the place of their high worship ceremo-

nies. We walked into the clearing.

It was quiet and peaceful by the rock. The morning

sun streamed through the leaves and branches of the tall

trees falling directly on the little patch where Rajah and I

stood. The serenity seemed to reach back into time. It felt

like long, long ago in another country and another clime.

In my youth, it was a joy for me to spend hours in the

forests. And forests and streams were plentiful. The little

village where I was born couldn’t have covered more than

a few square miles. To the north was the Atlantic Ocean

and to the south were miles of misty, tropical rain forests

for a boy to explore, if he dared. And always there was the

perpetual, subtle call of the ocean, a sea song luring me

away to distant places. The forests also sang, but their

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songs carried the soothing comfort of the familiarity of

home. Home to me was this small fishing and farming

village, literally cut out of the jungle by my grandfather

and a group of stalwart men.

Year after year the village grew as the inhabitants con-

stantly fought back the jungle and the sea. It seemed that

both wanted to reclaim the village as a prize. In time, the

village would become extremely prosperous, only to die

years later after I left. In my mind though, it was still my

village and thoughts of those times raced through my mind.

“It is in remembering the times of your strength and

overcomings that you can grow stronger and overcome

even more.” The voice thundered into my head and inter-

rupted my thoughts which roamed the village streets of

long ago. Looking around, I saw him leaning on a boul-

der next to mine. He was dressed like a story-book char-

acter, bright colors, strange hat and cowboy boots.

“Gideon! What are you doing here? Where did you

come from?” The astonishment in my voice startled Rajah.

“Just came from a party. Some folks in another time

and place.”

“I’m beginning to believe you really do the crazy things

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you talk about, like time travel and nonsense like that.”

“You would do well to believe the things I tell you,

John. Time travel is far from being nonsense. It’s done

regularly by those who know how. There are some of us

who commute to other times just as simply and easily as

you commute to other places.”

“Were you in my house the other night?”

“Sitting on your piano bench. You couldn’t see me,

but your friend, June, did.”

“Why couldn’t I see you?”

“You were looking only with your physical eyes. Had

you looked with your inner eye, you would have seen

me too.”

“Things like an inner eye and time travel seem so much

like science-fiction to me. Do you really think that people

can travel through time? I mean. . . .”

He interrupted me. “You already travel through time.

One method should be obvious. You were awake at six-

thirty this morning and it’s almost ten-thirty now. You have

traveled almost four hours since you got up this morning.”

“That’s silly. Everyone does that.”

“Because it’s so obvious, no one ever observes the

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process carefully. It’s taken for granted. It’s called exist-

ing or living. The other method is more fun, or more fright-

ening, depending on the encounters. You travel through

time in your dreams. There it happens automatically. The

conscious mind is removed from its monitoring functions.

The other parts of you which accept the seemingly mirac-

ulous as natural function in their own time and space.”

“But that happens without any rhyme or reason. Dream

times are uncontrollable.”

“Not quite, if you really understand how it works. What

time does your watch read right now?”

“Ten-thirty on the dot.”

“I’ll give you a demonstration. Think of a time in your

past that you’d like to see again, if you could. Close

your eyes and hold that thought in your mind for a

few seconds.”

I thought of an incident in college many years ago. A

well-known speaker was giving a lecture in the audito-

rium. Since I had enough time before the lecture started,

I decided to get a cup of coffee in the cafeteria. I was

enjoying my coffee at a table in the corner when a man

walked up to me and asked, “May I join you?”

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John Harricharan

I replied, “Of course,” as he sat down. Our conversa-

tion had lasted for about an hour. I wished I could go

back to that scene for just a short while.

Gideon said, “Let’s go and see your college incident

again.”

He had hardly spoken the words when I was overcome

by an enormous swirling sensation. When it stopped, I

looked around. Imagine my surprise to find myself and

Gideon standing in the college cafeteria of long ago. Other

students were standing around and I began to worry about

how I would explain our presence when Gideon said,

“Don’t worry. They can’t see or hear us. You’re visiting

another time. They’ll only be able to see us if we want

them to. It’s better this way at first.”

He led me to a small table across from where we were

standing. Two people were drinking coffee. Somehow,

they seemed familiar.

“Don’t you know who those people are, John?” asked

Gideon.

I looked a bit closer and was amazed to realize that

the younger man was me — not me as I am today, but

the me I was many years ago in college. There I sat as a

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college student — much younger and thinner, with-

out the gray in my hair — sipping coffee with another

man. “We’re looking back in time, John,” Gideon said.

“That’s the event you were thinking of when we left your

present-time situation. Do you recognize the other

man? Don’t you remember that he came to your table

and sat with you for a while before he went on to

give his lecture?”

“That was Dr. Martin Luther King! I didn’t know it

when he first sat down, but by the end of our conversa-

tion, he revealed who he was.”

“Do you recall the effect his conversation had on you?”

“How could I ever forget? The compassion and the

vision of that man! I’ll always remember that.”

“You see, we can visit events from the past and observe,

remember and learn from them.”

Fascinated, I stood there watching and listening in on

their conversation. Finally Gideon said, “It’s time for us

to leave here and go on to another time and place.”

A thought struck me. “Could we have participated in

their conversation, Gideon? I mean, the me of then and

the me of now conversing with each other?”

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“Yes — but there are certain rules one has to observe.

For now, let’s go.”

He had barely spoken when I felt the return of the

swirling sensation. The entire scene changed and we

found ourselves standing on the bank of a river. A young

man dressed in Hindu clothing was approaching us.

“You’ll notice, John, that we can participate in this

event,” said Gideon.

The man walked up to us, tossed a smile at me and

spoke to Gideon. “Hello! They told me you’d be here

soon, so I hurried to meet you.” Gideon seemed to know

him and introduced him with the words, “My friend

Krishna, of Hindu mythology.”

The two of them continued a lively conversation

as we approached the water’s edge. It was barely sun-

rise as I stood on a large flat rock looking out over the

calm waters. It was a beautiful morning as the sun

reflected waving patterns of molten gold across the

water’s surface.

“What river is this?” I asked Krishna.

“It’s a tributary of the river Ganga — what you would

call the Ganges. In time, it will become the holiest of

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rivers for Hindus, just as the Jordan will become the holi-

est of rivers for Christians and Jews alike.”

Krishna walked over to the rock where I stood. He

placed his foot on it and then moved aside. As I glanced

down, I saw a footprint appear on the stone where there

was none before.

“Did you do that?” I asked

He smiled mischievously. “They’ll speak about it for

generations to come. Yea! For thousands of years, until

they learn to direct their footsteps toward the light which

beckons to all of us.”

“Don’t the Hindus speak of you as the most important

manifestation of their god, Vishnu? I mean, in the twenti-

eth century, they actually worship and sing praises to you.

How do you feel about that?”

“We are all manifestations of God. We were created in

the image of God. But the sad part is whenever any one

person points the way to a better and more fulfilling life,

his followers very quickly forget the way and start wor-

shipping the way-shower.”

“That’s an interesting thought,” I replied. “Sort of like

worshipping the messenger while ignoring the message.”

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“Gideon is a close friend of mine,” said Krishna. “We’ve

known each other for eternity. He’s agreed to work with

you and teach you some of the eternal truths. Pay atten-

tion to him and you’ll find that you’re listening to your-

self. Life is a joyous adventure. Start to enjoy it”

As I stood on the banks of this holy river, a sudden

peace enveloped me. I felt at one with the world, at one

with the universe. Perhaps, this was what was meant by

“atonement,” or, “at-one-ment.” Then I heard Gideon

saying to me, “We must return now.” We said good-bye

to Krishna and then that swirling sensation returned again.

In the blink of an eye, we were transported back to the

woods behind my house.

My watch still read ten-thirty. Apparently totally uncon-

cerned, Rajah remained exactly where we’d left him.

Gideon stood next to me. “Sit down,” I said, motioning

towards a large rock, “perhaps, you could explain some

of this to me.”

I stretched out on the grass under the tall trees and

awaited Gideon’s reply.

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Chapter Seven

G

ideon settled on a rock and wriggled somewhat

to make himself more comfortable. “Time is like

the tides,” he said, “or more correctly, like a river. There

are currents, white and dark water and backwash. Human

beings have been conditioned from birth to believe in

sequential time, that is, time as moment after moment.

By the ripe old age of five or six, one has generally forgotten

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the intricacies of the nature of time and space and thus is

primed to live in a world where tomorrows come after

todays and yesterdays lead to todays.”

As much as one part of me wanted to understand what

he was saying, another part was firmly anchored in the

logical thinking processes. “Stop, Gideon, I don’t really

think all that is important. In fact, I’m relatively comfort-

able in this time slot. What with television, advanced

computers, other electronic marvels, space probes to dis-

tant planets and so forth, who knows? This time and place

could still be fun.”

“If you don’t blow yourself up first, or die of asphyxia-

tion because there is no more breathable air. No clean

water to drink because your rivers and streams have been

poisoned by chemicals.”

“Oh it’s not that bad. At least not, yet . . . , I think. But

let’s get back to this ‘time’ thing. We visited different

times, didn’t we?”

“Yes, indeed we did.”

“Tell me about the classic case, Gideon. Suppose I

had gone back to the time when my great grandfather

was a boy. Suppose we met, there was a fight and he was

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killed. Just suppose, OK? Would I be here, now? Would

I be there or anywhere? Explain that. How could I have

been born if my great grandfather had died as a boy? Ha!

Got you on that one!”

“Pretty clever, but still at the kindergarten level. In that

probable lifetime you would not have lived as such, but

in another and another and a hundred thousand others

you live and are as vibrant and alive as you are here.”

“You mean that there are thousands of me living in

thousands of different situations in thousands of worlds?

Come on, Gideon.”

“Let’s not get too involved in this matter of ‘time,’ John.

It’s rather an advanced concept. Suffice it to say that we,

you or anyone with some practice could travel to differ-

ent times and different places. Manage your thoughts and

you determine your existence in space and time.”

“That’s fine for space and time but I’m getting hun-

gry. I can’t take you home and introduce you to my

family. What would I say? ‘Here, meet my good friend

Gideon who dresses strangely, travels through time and

knows Krishna’?”

“Your family wouldn’t be able to see me at this time.

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And as for being hungry, look at your watch. What time

is it?”

I glanced at my watch and saw that it was still only

ten-thirty, although we had been talking for what seemed

like hours, not counting the “trips” we had made. It felt

as if time hadn’t passed. I looked at him and said, “You

certainly couldn’t stop time, could you? Not even you

could do that.”

“No. All we did was center ourselves in an area of non-

movement of time and so it appeared that time stood

still. Not to worry though. All is well with you and your

family and the world, if you will. No side effects.”

I looked across to Rajah. He was sleeping peacefully.

Next to him was a picnic basket. “What’s that, Gideon?”

I asked, pointing.

“Just lunch. You said you were hungry, didn’t you? I

brought it with me this morning. Let’s have some.”

Strange, but I hadn’t noticed the basket before. We

helped ourselves to a delicious lunch while Gideon con-

tinued his commentary.

“It’s really simple,” he said. “In fact, very simple when

you understand it. Each person exists in many dimen-

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sions and many systems. Each one inhabits the entire

universe, but most times, is focused in only one tiny spot

— the here and now. But that’s precisely the most impor-

tant spot in life, the here and now. From that spot, each

one influences his entire future and past.”

“You know, Gideon, our church fathers would string

you up for saying such things. What with all this non-

sense talk about being born again, or having lived before?

Surely, you don’t believe that. . . .”

He interrupted me again. “You live as many lifetimes as

are needed on earth. In each lifetime, you learn and strive

to be better than the one ‘before,’ if you accept time as

sequential. If you accept time as eternally now, then you

exist in many systems and dimensions simultaneously.”

It was a rather pleasant and ‘learningful’ morning. Brim-

ming with food-for-thought, Gideon’s repertoire had

offered me some extraordinary perspectives to consider.

It was, however, time to return to normal and to experi-

ence present-time and people as I knew them.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, John. You’ve actually

done quite well. I am, as you now can see, an other-worldly

being. So are all of you on earth. You’re all just visitors

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here. Some of you know this. Others prefer to remain

ignorant of that fact. Whichever way you prefer, you still

have access to awesome power. See you soon.” And then

he was gone. The lunch basket disappeared too — not

even a leftover crumb. Only Rajah and I remained. Simul-

taneously, we rose and walked back to the house.

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Chapter Eight

T

he remainder of Sunday was enjoyable. I have little

trouble with weekends. It’s the time between

weekends that sometimes gives me problems. All too soon

Monday arrived. The ride to the office was taken up with

reflections on the past few days. Although we realized

we’d be seeing her again soon, June’s visit had been most

welcome, but much too short.

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Gideon still amazed and intrigued me. There was no

doubt in my mind that he had access to considerable

information and power. I accepted some of his concepts

such as time travel as distinct possibilities, especially since

I was a party to some of those journeys with him. But

again, some of his ideas were difficult to reconcile as I

struggled with my “reality thinking.”

As usual, I was the first one to arrive at the office. As I

walked in turning on the lights, he was waiting for me,

sitting on the chair across from my desk. “Gideon! Not

you again!” I exclaimed.

“It seems as if you’re getting bored with me, John,” he

said with a twinkle in his eye.

“No, of course not,” I hastened to assure him. “Not

bored, just amazed that you always appear at the strang-

est times.”

“That’s good to know. I came because I felt that you’re

going to need to see a bit more clearly today.” He did not

smile this time and was more serious than I’d ever known

him to be.

“What do you mean, Gideon?”

“You’re afraid,” he said, “for your employees, your

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family, your friends and others. You think you’ve done all

you could to make things better and yet, you feel that

you can’t see the light.”

“You seem to be reading my mind again, Gideon. What

you say is true — but I’m only human.”

“Only human, John? Only human?” He was intense as

he continued. “You use that as an excuse. You’re much

more than just human. You and everyone else are more

divine than human. You were all created in the image and

likeness of the First Force, the Almighty. Don’t you

remember the numerous legends of creation?”

“Yes, of course. So what? I’m human or divine or both.

It really doesn’t matter. I’m still concerned about myself

and my people and because of my concern, I sometimes

fear and tremble. Is it so terrible to care for others? Is it

a sign of weakness to be concerned about your fellow

human beings? What’s so terrible about that?”

“No, not the caring, John. The worrying is what gets

you. You must make a distinction between caring and worry-

ing. You care, so you try to make everything work right.

When nothing seems to work right, you worry and become

fearful and because of the fear, you short-circuit yourself.”

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“In what way or manner, O Great One?” I asked some-

what sarcastically.

“You see, John, the rules are really quite simple. The

Creator made everything and all of us. We, also, are cre-

ators. We are endowed with many of the qualities of the

Creator, but most times, these qualities are so deeply

buried that they’re hardly ever recognized or used.”

“Yes, Lord and Master, please continue. Your humble

servant listens.”

He ignored my mocking attitude and continued.

“Worry is a form of directed energy, John. Worry removes

your focus from everything else and directs it in a con-

centrated manner on that which you fear. Worry and fear

then join to bring into your existence the very thing which

you feared.”

“So, how do I stop worrying? Tell me that!”

“You stop worrying when you understand the univer-

sal laws that make things work. One of those laws says

that whatever you see in your mind — good or bad — if

you believe it, it will come to pass. Creation starts in

your mind with your thoughts and imagination. Cause

and effect world, John. Use insight and you’ll see right.

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What you sow, you shall reap. As you think and believe,

so it becomes.”

“Good sayings, Gideon. I know most of those things

but how do I use that knowledge in a practical way? How

do I use it to improve my present situation?”

“By centering yourself and looking within you. This is

an inside job, you see. The answers are all within you.

Not outside, not in someone else and not even in the one

you call God.”

That puzzled me for a second. “I thought that God

could do everything. Why wouldn’t He have the answers?

More important, why wouldn’t He give us some of those

answers, especially when we pray to Him so earnestly?”

“Because you don’t understand God and the methods

He gave us for finding answers. We don’t have to beg or

plead. We only have to relax and become quiet and to

believe in ourselves and the abilities inherent in us. Then

we’d begin to receive answers in the form of ideas. We

must believe and trust the process. God doesn’t withhold

our good from us. However, He does want us to learn by

discovering the process. Often we’re just unable to see

that we already have — or can have — what we want.”

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This discussion set me to thinking about God. Human-

ity does seem to have so many gods. The Muslims have

one, the Christians another, the Jews yet another and on

and on. Some have more than one. Various religions locate

their gods in places such as temples, mountains, streams

and skies. Legends speak of greater and lesser gods.

Even I have a god with whom I was vaguely acquainted.

I had learned in Sunday school that He lived in a place

called heaven. He seemed so far removed from everyone

and everything that only popes and priests, pastors and

preachers, kings, emperors and presidents had access to

Him. One would lift beseeching hands and cry in pain to

this god ,but most times, no answer. I thought I’d throw

a curve at Gideon.

“Hey, Gideon, you know so much. Tell me about God.

Who and what is He? Why doesn’t He hear when people

cry to Him? Tell me if you can.”

Without blinking an eye, Gideon answered, “Your relig-

ions are like schools in different countries. They teach

you basically the same thing but in different languages

and in different ways. Some schools may stress art or

history, while others may place more emphasis on chem-

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istry or math. But there’s a common thread in all of them

— they lead to the same place, the Temple of Wisdom

and Light. So God by any other name is still God. The cry

of the ancient Hebrews, ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy God

is One,’ is as true now as it was then, or ever will be.

“God is not in a place or time. God is here and now.

Heaven or hell is here and now. God does not sit on a

golden throne surrounded by angels who play harps or

fly around all day. If you think that is what heaven is,

you’d better start taking music lessons as well as flying

lessons. God is in each person, in each life form, in each

and every part of creation. God is no more or less present

in you than in another life form at the edge of the galaxy.

“And God listens and cares. He’s even concerned about

the little sparrows and the lilies of the field. Wouldn’t He

be concerned about you, or for that matter, me?”

I was sorry I brought it up. We could talk about that

subject for days. Again I changed the direction of the con-

versation. “Why don’t I see clearly what must be done for

my company? Is it necessary that all this, which took a

lifetime to build, be torn apart or destroyed?”

Patiently Gideon responded, “If it must be that way

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for your greater good, then accept it. If it doesn’t have to

be that way, then that’s fine too. But you’re the one who

has to decide. Prepare yourself for that which you’re seek-

ing. Know that what you’re seeking is also seeking you.

You want a successful corporation? Then prepare for it.

Know that the forces of the universe will rush in to bring

you what you want, provided of course, you want it badly

enough and believe that you can get it. Or, better yet,

deserve it.

“All problems on earth are of three types: health, money

and relationships. Look at any problem and it will fall

under one or a combination of these three categories.

There are proper and correct methods one must use to

solve a problem, just as there are to drive a car or to build

a house.

“Now, I must leave you, John. There are many more

things to discuss, but we’ll meet again soon. Inciden-

tally, I’d like to introduce you to a good friend of mine

who may be of some help to you. He has an office in the

Big City. When you have a slow day we could visit him.

Would you like that?”

“Certainly. If he could help us with this financial thing,

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I would go to the ends of the earth to meet him.” Mis-

chievously I added, “Even if he’s half as strange as you, it

would be fun.”

“I’m sure you’ll like him. Let’s go soon,” he said. He

stood up and smiled, “Have a good day, John.” Then he

was gone. It would be weeks before I’d see him again.

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Chapter Nine

I

t was true that our company had finally managed to

acquire a large contract, but things still weren’t going

the way we’d have liked. Although everyone was working

very hard the results weren’t comparable to the efforts.

Additional financing was urgently needed. Without these

funds, the company would be unable to increase produc-

tion to meet the necessary requirements of the contract.

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There was even the possibility of having to dissolve

the corporation, but I didn’t like to think about that.

At our last meeting, Gideon had mentioned that he

wanted me to meet with one of his friends in the Big City.

If there was a possibility that it could lead me to the proper

contacts for a business loan, I was even more interested

than before. If nothing came of it, at least I wouldn’t have

left any stone unturned. It might even turn out that the

meeting would be enjoyable and there were so few fun

things I did these days. I thought I’d call Gideon and see

if I could make arrangements to go with him soon to visit

his friend.

As I searched my desk for his business card, the phone

rang. Of course, it was Gideon. “I see that you’re ready to

go to the Big City,” he said. “I’ll meet you in your parking

lot at nine-thirty tomorrow morning.” Without waiting

for a reply, he hung up.

At nine-thirty the next morning, I was walking toward

my car in the parking lot when I spotted him. He was

standing at attention near my car, waiting for me. Few

things surprised me about this man these days. “Good

morning, Gideon. Ready to go?” I asked.

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“Sure, let’s go. I’m positive you’ll have a fine morning,

John,” he replied.

As we drove out of the parking lot, I jokingly asked,

“Why do we have to use a car, Gideon? I mean, you’re

able to traverse space and time. Let’s do it the easy way.

Let’s arrive in the Big City instantaneously and avoid all

the traffic.”

Those dark, piercing eyes narrowed as he answered.

“I’ll tell you a story.”

“Once upon a time in the ancient land of Bharat, there

lived a Guru and his bramcharyas or, as you would call

them, disciples. Each disciple was supposed to pick as his

test a very difficult task to perform. He was to work exceed-

ingly hard for several years to perfect himself in the task

that he, himself, had set. There was this one disciple, some-

what brighter than the others yet, so very shy and timid.

“ ‘And what task have you set for yourself, my son?’

asked the kindly Guru.

“ ‘Master,’ answered the disciple, ‘I want to be able to

walk on water. I will practice until I’m able to do it. To

walk on water — that is my goal.’

“Years passed and under the gentle guidance of the

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Guru, most of the disciples accomplished what they had

set out to do. Finally, the shy disciple approached the

Guru. ‘Master,’ said he, ‘I have toiled and practiced with-

out ceasing, lo, these many years. See that city across the

river? I can now walk on the water and go over to the city.

Master, I have overcome. I can walk on water.’

“Looking at the young disciple the old master sadly

asked, ‘Why did you not take the boat? You would have

saved so much time.’ ”

“John, when you know you can walk on water, you

generally can take the boat.”

Somewhat unclear about the main point of the story, I

mumbled an inaudible “Oh,” but didn’t ask for an expla-

nation. I don’t always like to listen to riddles or parables

and Gideon certainly had a lot of them. I prefer plain talk.

I asked about the people we’d be meeting today.

“I made all the necessary arrangements,” he said.

“You’re expected.”

“Are they business associates of yours?”

“Business associates and friends, also.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to get some help for my

company?”

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“A definite possibility,” he replied.

“You know we need a loan to continue our operations.

Maybe they’d be willing to help us out in this situation?”

“Perhaps.”

He seemed to be in a quiet, pensive mood this morn-

ing, but his clipped answers were beginning to annoy me.

Not wanting to appear rude, I gave up any further at-

tempts to make conversation. I was thinking only of my-

self and my problems, forgetting that he, too, could be

occupied with problems of his own. But then again, he

shouldn’t have any problems, not with the type of infor-

mation and power he seemed to possess.

He broke into my thoughts saying, “Even God has

problems. It’s the way one goes about solving them that’s

interesting.”

“God shouldn’t have problems, Gideon. I mean, it

doesn’t make sense. God can do anything.”

“True, but even God doesn’t like boredom. To exist

without challenges would be boredom at its ultimate.”

He became quiet again, so I left him to his thoughts for

a while. The drive wasn’t too unpleasant. Usually, I don’t

like driving into the Big City. Being there is one thing, but

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trying to get there is quite another. There are few things

more unpleasant than being stuck in traffic for hours.

A flock of gulls had been flying above and to the front

of the car since we left the parking lot. To amuse myself,

I counted them. There were seven. The freedom of flight,

I thought. Gideon broke the silence. “A flock of gulls by

day and a pillar of fire by night,” he said.

“What?”

“The ancient Israelites, you know, were led in their

wanderings in the wilderness by a cloud by day and a

pillar of fire by night.”

“Three cheers for the Israelites,” I mumbled, again

having no idea of what he was talking about.

In a short while, we arrived in the Big City. It was, as

always, impersonal. We parked the car and walked through

the never-ending crowds to a waiting cab. Gideon handed

the driver an address and a few minutes later we stepped

out in front of a tall building on an obscure side street.

We walked up to the door, entered the lobby and were

soon on our way to the thirty-third floor.

We stepped out into a long hallway. I took a few

moments to straighten my tie and comb my hair. At times

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the winds of the Big City could be exceedingly fierce. At

the end of the hallway was a large door bearing a sign that

said: “G & M Enterprises, Inc., World Headquarters.”

“These are the people you work with, right, Gideon?”

He was a bit more relaxed now. “Yes,” he said. “It’s

about time you got to meet my boss. There’ll also be

another friend of mine here. You remember Marla?”

“Marla will be here, too? Oh yeah, I forgot that she

works for this company, too. It’ll be good to see her again.”

There was that twinkle in his eye and I knew that he

was back to his old self, again. He pushed open the door

as we walked into a reception area that was both simple

and, at the same time, elegantly decorated. There were

paintings of strange symbols on the walls. A receptionist

looked up and smiled. “Hello, Gideon, and welcome to

our office, John,” she said.

“You look well, Mary,” replied Gideon.

“Won’t you sit down, please. Marla is here already. It

will only be a few minutes,” said Mary.

In a short while Marla joined us and we renewed old

acquaintances. She seemed quite pleased to see me there.

The receptionist left for a few moments and when she

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returned, she announced, “The chief will see you now.”

She escorted us through the main area to an office with

a sign on the door that read: “President and Chairman of

the Board.”

“Gee, Gideon, you know the big boss,” I teased.

As the door opened he said, “You’ll enjoy this meet-

ing, John.”

We stepped into an office thickly carpeted in celestial

blue. The office was luxuriously decorated and contained

several lush plants dramatically placed throughout the

well-lit room. On the far side was a large, ornate desk

behind which sat a rather imposing figure. We walked

over and Gideon proceeded with the introductions.

“John, I’m pleased to introduce you to our chief execu-

tive officer. He is president and chairman of the board of

G & M Enterprises.” I noticed a tremendous respect, but

no fear in Gideon’s voice as he continued, “I want you to

meet God.”

For a moment I was stunned. Then I remembered that

many people refer to their bosses as “god,” and so, I quickly

regained my composure. I looked over to the person sit-

ting behind the desk. He seemed to be middle-aged,

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possessing a powerful presence about him. His hair was jet

black and his eyes dark and piercing, somewhat like

Gideon’s. Yet, as I looked at him a little more carefully, his

hair now appeared to be lighter and his eyes blue. Must be

some trick of the light, I thought.

He rose from his chair, shook my hand and said, “Glad

you could come. My thanks to Marla and Gideon for

getting you here. I’ve been waiting for your visit for a

long time.”

I mumbled something to the effect that it was also good

to be here and that I’d been looking forward to this meet-

ing. The one known as “God” was informally dressed —

not even a tie — although his shirt appeared to be expertly

tailored and there was an unrecognizable insignia over

the right pocket. He motioned for us to sit and asked

whether we’d care for something to drink. None of us

wanted anything, so I sat anxiously waiting for someone

to start the conversation. My entire being was focused on

getting some financial help for my company.

Gideon spoke up. “John, you don’t seem to understand.

This isn’t a joke. You’re in the presence of God. I mean,

The God with a capital ‘G’.” I started feeling queasy. It was

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impossible for anyone to be speaking face-to-face with God.

That only happened in movies and books, but not in real

life. Reason dictated that this was all nonsense. Yet, there

was a part of me that said it was all right for me to believe,

at least for the time being, that there was more to this than

met the eye. My curiosity prevailed and I decided to accept

all this for a while to see where it would take me.

God spoke this time. The voice was neither too high

nor too low and resounded with a vibrant life force. “John,”

He said. “Even now, you still don’t believe that I am who

they say I am, right?”

“Well, some things are very hard to believe,” I replied.

“I understand. However, make yourself comfortable

because we’ll be here for a little while. Excuse me. I’ll

be back in a few seconds.” With that he got up and left

the room.

At that moment the words from Alice in Wonderland

came to mind — “I’m mad. You’re mad. We’re all mad

here.” Perhaps, I was just dreaming.

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Chapter Ten

M

arla and Gideon just sat there staring at me

when the door closed. Finally Marla asked,

“Well, what do you think, John?”

“Think? What do I think? This is probably the most

inconceivable thing that has ever happened to me and

you’re asking me what I think? It’s impossible for me to

think at all.”

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“Accept this with an open mind,” said Gideon, “and

you’ll find there are different ways to approach life.”

There was a tremendous sense of peace and joy when

he was near and, yet, I still could not consciously bring

myself to believe that he was The God. He walked over to

his chair and sat down. Looking me straight in the eye,

he said, “John, you don’t really believe all of this, do you?”

It was more a statement than a question.

“Well, I must admit that I’m puzzled.”

“I am God. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and

the end, First Cause, Jehovah, Yahweh, Yeshua, Allah. I

am I, Lord God Almighty, The First Force. What did you

expect to see? What do you think God should look like?

An old bearded man sitting on a throne? Dozens of

angels dancing around him, her or it? God is God and is

all things to all people.”

He gave the appearance of a man totally in control of

himself. His voice and tone were not in the least reprimand-

ing, but rather compassionate and kind. I didn’t know what

to say so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“How come,” I asked, “I’m here with you, when there are

many others more deserving of an audience than I?”

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“That’s one of the problems,” he said. “Almost everyone

thinks that I’m unreachable, that I only speak to special

people at special times. Listen carefully: Everyone is spe-

cial to me. I speak to everyone, but not all listen. I appear

to everyone in many ways, but not all see me. Do you

remember that little child you gave some money to the

other day? That was me speaking to your heart and

feelings. Do you remember the time you stopped and

helped an old man fix a flat tire on the bridge? That was

me again.”

“You mean that you care about little things like flat tires?”

“Of course I care. And there are no little things, only

people who tend to look at things and call them little. Take

a rose, for example.” And as he said that, as if by magic, a

beautiful rose appeared in his hand. “Consider its intrica-

cies. Surely, not a little thing. I love roses. They brighten

everyone’s life. In fact, I love everything I’ve created.”

“Well, if you are God, why do you have an office in the

Big City? How is it that you’re president and chairman of

the board of G & M Enterprises, anyway?”

“G & M stands for God and Man. It’s my ‘earth’ com-

pany. What better place to have an office than in the Big

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City? We have branches in almost every city. In every

town and village you can find us. We also have a number

of subsidiaries. Marla and Gideon are from the corporate

office. Marla is in P.R. — ‘people recycling,’ in this case

and Gideon is a trouble-shooter — special projects. You’re

one of his projects.”

“It sounds so business-oriented, as if the entire world

were a giant corporation.”

“I compare it to a business for your understanding.

You understand the corporate world so, I speak to you in

terms of what you understand. You see, I’m in business

— the ‘God Business’ or, looking at it another way, the

‘Good Business’.”

If this was God, I thought, then I’ve been granted a

rare privilege and should take full advantage of it. Actu-

ally, I was beginning to take him seriously.

His voice broke into my thoughts. “You need proof

that I am God. Yet, no matter what proof you’re given,

you’ll always find there’s an element of doubt. That doubt,

as to whether you did the right thing, is a result of your

having the power of choice. Let me tell you this. After I

had made the earth and all that was in and on it, I too,

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wondered whether it was the right thing. But then again,

whatever I do is the right thing.”

“Did Gideon get his powers from you?”

“Yes, and so did you. Now, let me show you something.

Think of a place where you’d like to be.”

I thought for a few seconds and then blurted out, “How

about the Serengeti plains of East Africa?”

“Good. You will see . . . ,” and before the sentence

was finished, I found myself on a grassy plain with

knotted shrubbery covering the landscape. There

were the acacia trees of tropical Africa. Wildebeests,

giraffes and elephants dotted the terrain. The transi-

tion was so instantaneous that I caught my breath.

But then again, didn’t Gideon take me to other places

and times? Surely, the one who called himself God could

do the same.

Suddenly, there was a movement in the tall grass to

my right. My previous trips to the Serengeti plains had

been taken using more conventional fare such as airplanes,

enclosed jeeps and native guides. This time I was all alone

except for the wildlife around me. Then there was a rus-

tling sound. A chill went down my spine. I turned around

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to find, facing me, not more than thirty paces away, the

largest, black-maned lion I’d ever seen.

It stared at me through fiery eyes that froze the very

marrow in my bones. He crouched ready to spring and I

knew, without a doubt, that this situation was not

conducive to longevity. Paralyzed with fear, I couldn’t

move. I just stood there rooted to the ground. With an

earth-shattering roar, the lion sprang. I felt the hot breath

of the carnivore just inches away. My arms raised instinc-

tively — then a blur, and I was back in the office with

Marla, Gideon and God.

“Don’t be afraid,” said God. “You’re not in any dan-

ger. Enough of this.”

Although still visibly shaken from my frightful ordeal, I

continued staring at him. Suddenly, it seemed as if I were

looking through different eyes than mine, as if new worlds

were opening before me. I felt the presence of an extremely

powerful and loving force. And then, as if by a miracle, I

began to feel that I was looking at the face of God. I fell to

my knees overcome with awe and whispered, “Forgive

me, Lord. Although I didn’t believe at first, now I know

that You are truly my Lord and my God.”

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“Get up,” He said, with warmth and love in His voice.

“No need to fall on knees and stuff like that.” I raised

myself as God continued. “It’s easy to set up barriers and

retain those barriers for a lifetime. You’ve all built walls,

not only nation against nation, but neighbor against neigh-

bor, friend against friend. You’ve even built walls between

yourselves and me. In your present state, you’ve forgot-

ten the joy and bliss of being close to me yet, if you search

your deepest memories, you may have vague recollections

of what it was like when the sons and daughters of God

danced with joy on the morning of creation.

“This isn’t the only place where life forms exist. Look

up into the sky some clear night and see the millions of

stars — universes within universes. Look up and you’ll

know that you are not alone in that vast expanse you call

space. There are others, many others and all of them are

my children.”

While God spoke I sat motionless in absolute silence.

I felt such peace and calm that I forgot about my corpora-

tion and its financial troubles. Nothing seemed impor-

tant except to sit there with Him and listen.

God continued, “The universe is dynamic and changing;

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it continues to grow. Creation never stopped; it will con-

tinue forever. Wherever you are is the center of the uni-

verse and the mid-point of eternity. Nothing is static. All

things change. But I do not change. The part of you that is

Me and the part of Me that is you will forever remain

changeless. So, even though seasons change and worlds

change, I, God, do not change.”

“Lord, I’m overwhelmed,” I said.

“You can interrupt me at anytime and ask ques-

tions. Don’t be afraid to speak. Because I am God, I

don’t become offended or feel insulted. I wish my

children would interrupt me more often. Now, as I

was saying, in this world of change you have chosen

to be here. . . .”

“Chosen to be here, Lord? How could we possibly have

chosen to be born?”

“Do you think for one instant that you appeared out of

nothingness into the body you currently have? No, you

existed before and will continue to exist after your body

is gone. And as to the choosing process. . . .”

I interrupted Him again. “Pardon me, but are you say-

ing that we were living, thinking beings before we were

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born? And that we chose to be here? I mean, how come

we don’t remember?”

“First,” God answered, “if you insist on the framework

of time as you understand it — in a before and after con-

tinuum — yes, you were conscious energy beings before

this earth life.

“Because of the challenges and opportunities for growth

and experimentation in an earth life, many chose to come

here. You chose the country, the period of history, your

parents and even your friends. You made an agreement

prior to your birth. The agreement took place at levels

that you don’t consciously remember. But the higher

self of you, the self which knows me well, understands

and remembers.

“If your conscious self would listen to your higher, inner

self, you’d have the answers to many of your questions.

You’d be guided in times of stress and comforted in times

of sorrow. It is I who speak to you with the still small voice.

Even in your loneliest moments you’re never alone. Even

in the depths of the furnace of affliction I’m there with you.”

“Lord, I have a million questions,” I said. “I don’t know

where to start.”

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“Why don’t we continue our conversation in a place

you’d really enjoy? Would you like to go on a short trip?

I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Certainly,” I said. “Wherever You go, I want to go.”

God looked at Gideon and Marla and nodded. Imme-

diately I felt a shimmering sensation and our surround-

ings disappeared.

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Chapter Eleven

A

s the shimmering stopped, I glanced around. We

were on the deck of a large ship with no land in

sight. As far as the eye could see there was water — blue-

green and beautiful. The gentle wind and serenely rolling

waves were soothing therapy. God smiled at me and said,

“I thought a change of scenery would do you some good,

especially since you love the ocean so much.”

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The vessel was a tall ship replete with sails and rigging.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else aboard and I won-

dered who was sailing it. “Where is the crew, Lord? Such

a large ship must surely need a crew.”

“Not this time, John,” He said. “We’re using a form

of energy called ‘celestial power’ for navigation. It’ll

be a few more centuries before your scientists discover

its existence.”

We pulled up a few deck chairs and sat facing the wind.

It was a delightful setting, to say the least. How quickly

one becomes accustomed to miracles, I thought.

“There really aren’t any miracles, John,” God said softly.

“If you understand universal laws, you’d understand so-

called ‘miracles.’ Everything works according to universal

laws. Know the laws and your knowledge becomes power.

Yet, even power requires the use of wisdom.”

Next to us on a small table sat a basket brimming with

fruit. There was also a pitcher filled with juice. Gideon

reached over and poured himself a glass. “Try some, John,

it’s good,” he said. He poured me a glass of the most

delicious fruit juice I had ever tasted. Marla took a banana

instead. I glanced at God to see what He’d do. Surely, He

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didn’t eat nor have need to. God picked up a plum and

bit into it.

He looked at me, winked and said, “I don’t have to

eat, John. In the cosmic sense, neither do you. But it’s

enjoyable, at least most times, if done properly and in

moderation.” I couldn’t quite understand what He meant

by not having to eat.

He continued, “You see, on earth you have a physical

body made of elements that are a part of the very earth

itself. Your body is a marvel of engineering. I designed it

to be relatively self-sustaining and self-correcting.

“If treated with respect and love, the body generally

takes care of itself. It is, so to say, your house here on

earth. Each of your cells is a unit of consciousness. They

perform in concert to produce a symphony of highly com-

plex vibrations. These vibrations affect every other cell in

the entire body. These cells know exactly what’s neces-

sary for the body to exist in harmony with its environ-

ment. I placed the necessary engineering and electronic

data in their memory. If given half a chance, they’d keep

you healthy. You think they’re simple because you study

them under your microscopes, but your most advanced

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computers are like stone age artifacts compared to the

intricacies of the life force in your cells.

“It’s true that you need a certain amount of nutrients

for your physical body, but that amount is usually small.

Your mental body is woven into your physical body yet,

you feed one and not the other. Your concern for food for

the physical far outweighs your concern for food for the

mental and the spiritual. Listen, it’s in the realm of mind

that you control all in the physical. It’s by working within

that you change without. The problems appear on the

outside, the solutions are on the inside.”

“How then do you explain disease and illness? Shouldn’t

the body take care of these things as well?” I asked.

“Yes, there are diseases in your world, but they gener-

ally result from a condition called ‘dis - ease.’ Human-

kind creates new illnesses all the time. All diseases have

their roots in your mind and beliefs. And the cure for all

of them already resides within you. Most times, a fear of

disease deep in your subconscious makes it possible for

the disease to become a part of you. Think healthy

thoughts and discount the possibility of disease and it

will never take up residence in your house.

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“There are materials given to you to assist in keeping

the body and mind healthy. These are all around you but

usually you ignore them and look for other ways. Take

light and sound, for example. Your scientists are only now

beginning to take a hard look at the intriguing possibili-

ties of these vibrations and frequencies. Vibrations of vari-

ous kinds affect both the physical and mental bodies.

Certain gems, colors and sounds are much more benefi-

cial than others. In periods of deep meditation you can

generally tell which ones would be best for you. If you

cannot, you may need the help of a teacher or a practitio-

ner in these matters. If your mind is calm and your out-

look positive, you would naturally be drawn to the right

people, the right places and the right things. You’d feel

that certain colors are good for you. You would feel the

effects of certain sounds and light. Tune in to yourself

and trust your guidance.

“You’ll be healthy not by disliking sickness, but by

loving health. Treat your body with respect and love. It’s

the vehicle for your consciousness while you’re on earth.

It’s also made to provide you with pleasure. Looking at a

beautiful sunset, tasting a delicious meal, hearing musi-

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cal sounds, touching and so forth, these can be very plea-

surable sensations for your body. You built it. I only

designed it and provided the blueprint.”

God relaxed for a moment and took another bite of the

plum. “Plums are good,” He said. “Fruits and vegetables

are good. There are herbs that are beneficial for specific

bodily ailments. The ancient civilizations knew a lot about

these things. There’s much to be learned from what was

handed down to you. But in your present century, there’s

not much respect for ancient wisdom. Scientific data and

analysis are fine up to a point, but they provide incom-

plete answers. Combining ancient wisdom and knowl-

edge with new discoveries will always be more beneficial

in the long run.

My mind was racing. This was extremely important

and valuable information. It was time I thought, to ask a

few questions concerning my current problems. Yet today,

these problems seemed so far away and not at all impor-

tant. Just being in the presence of the Almighty gave me

an entirely different perspective. But nevertheless, I found

myself asking, “Why is it, Lord, sometimes when we work

so hard toward a goal, that it begins to seem ever further

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away? In fact, there are so many things that I’m working

on and they all seem to be getting worse. Any light You

can shed will be a tremendous help not only to me, but

also to those I’m trying to help.”

“There are various reasons,” said God. “The things you

are striving for so diligently may not be things you really

want or need. Another reason may be that you aren’t ready

yet or prepared to handle those things. Or it could be

timing. You have to learn how to read the signs of the

times. A good farmer knows when to sow and when to

reap. He doesn’t reap when he should be sowing or sow

when he should be reaping.”

These reasons seemed too ordinary to be “God

Answers,” so I pursued the question further. “I thought

any time was a good or proper time. How do we know

this timing? How can we find the right time?”

“It’s true,” replied God, “that anytime is a good time,

but you must know if it is the right time. Winter is a good

time, but do you plant roses in the snow? A stormy day is

a good day, but is it a day for sailing or fishing? There are

cycles in the universe, the world and your life. Learn to

find the cycles and use them for your benefit. Projects

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begun at the right time will be much more successful

than if started at any other time.”

“Sounds something like astrology. Is there really any-

thing to that stuff?”

“I love puzzles — crosswords, jigsaws and many other

kinds. You have many puzzles in your life. Things would

be dull indeed without challenges. But although the

puzzles are challenging, you’ve been given clues. You have

many guidance systems for your earthly life. Since ancient

times, sailors have used the stars for navigation on the high

seas. You, too, could use the stars for navigation on the

seas of life. How do you think those Three Wise Men from

the East found our little baby Jesus? Don’t you remember

the story? They studied the heavens. They saw a star and

they were able to correctly interpret the signs. Call it

astrology, celestial navigation or whatever you please.”

“Can the ordinary person use these things for his own

guidance?” I asked.

“Even today,” He said, “there are many who guide their

paths according to the signs they read. These signs, astro-

logical or otherwise, weren’t given to you as crutches, but

as guideposts. They don’t determine or predestine what

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will happen to you. You do that. They only point the way.

You have to do the traveling. Don’t confuse the map with

the territory.”

“Most of my animals are more aware of cycles and signs

than humans are. Notice how they seem to be aware of

approaching storms or earthquakes. They don’t block out

the messages they receive. But you, the epitome of My

creation on earth, have filled yourselves with so much

doubt, worry and fear that you can’t hear yourselves think.

You can’t even hear Me speak to you. You even choose to

ignore the signs I’ve given you.

“Yet, these signs are there for anyone. In your sleep

you have signs and guidance through your dreams. In

your waking time there are just as many helpful signs for

your direction and well-being. Take for example, reading

license plates on cars. Every once in a while, take the

letters you see and form words. Pick the first words that

come into your mind and see how often those words have

relevance to your present situation. Once in a while, look

at a billboard. Or, perhaps, a song on the radio gives you

a hint. Open a book, any book, to any page and see what

it tells you. There are ‘sermons in stones’ if you’d take

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the time to look, listen and be open to receive information.”

A slight breeze arose and the sails billowed. The sound

of the creaking masts joined with the ocean to create a

beautiful windsong. I still had no desire, but just to sit

there forever and hear God speak. I was now able to

detect a faint, glowing light around Him. I’d seen this

light before around Gideon, but for the first time I saw it

around Marla, too.

God continued. “Don’t think that you can only speak

to me about sacred, holy or spiritual things. As you can

see, I enjoy many things, even a cruise. Don’t be afraid to

confide in me. I’m closer to you than the air you breathe.”

While I had the opportunity I thought I’d ask one ques-

tion about my future, since I could sense that our meet-

ing was quickly approaching an end. “Lord,” I asked, “will

my path over the next months or years be easier than it

has been?”

“The way you have chosen for yourself will be a diffi-

cult but glorious one. You’ll need all the strength and

faith you can muster for what lies ahead. But you will

come through it. For me to tell you more would deter

you from the path that you’ve set for yourself. As you go

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through the months ahead remember that you’re never

alone. Reach out and hold my hand sometimes. You’ll be

amazed at how much it helps. Wherever you are, I’m

there with you.”

There was a sweet sadness about this very personal

meeting. Gideon looked at me and said, “It’s time to go

now, John.”

“Do I really have to go?” I asked.

God answered, “Yes, John, but remember what you

have learned here today. You’ll need it.” Turning to Gideon

and Marla, He said, “No need for John to worry about

traffic today. Please make sure that he’s returned to his

office without any problems.” He looked at me again

and as He said, “Go in peace,” I felt as if I’d always

known Him.

The scene began to disappear. There was a brief silence

then I found Gideon and myself, once again, sitting in

my parked car. Marla was nowhere to be seen. Gideon

whispered, “The Lord moves in mysterious ways,” and

then he, too, was gone. Trying to compose myself, I sat

there a short while longer. Then as one awakening from a

dream, I got out and walked to my office.

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Chapter Twelve

T

he threads of history weave strange patterns

in the web of time. Mysterious and complex as

the tapestry sometimes appears, the finished product

invariably is a work of art. Often, one cannot see the

entire picture from the limited perspective of a small

portion of a lifetime. It’s by expanding the mind and

trusting the universal flow that it’s possible to make sense

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of what may be considered nonsense or “none sense.”

It was sometime in the late sixteenth or early seven-

teenth century. Far across the seas in the ancient land of

Bharat, which today is known as India, mighty forces were

at work. Somewhere in the north central part of that land,

in an area inhabited by the descendants of fierce Rajput

warriors, the Maharajah Jai Singh the Second had already

made tremendous scientific advancements in the pink and

lavender city of Jaipur.

A young boy, about the age of ten, served at the court

of the powerful Jai Singh. This boy’s name, taken from

another powerful ruler of earlier days, was Mahn Singh.

Well versed was he with the stories told at court. On

many an evening he would listen in quiet amazement as

visitors from faraway lands exchanged stories and tales

with one another. As Mahn Singh grew older, he would

dream of those distant lands across the seas and would

repeat the stories he learned at court.

Thousands of miles across the oceans, England had a

new queen. Elizabeth the First, daughter of Henry the

Eighth, was a shrewd and powerful monarch. She was

constantly at war with Spain, which was then ruled by

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Philip the Second. In an all out effort to conquer England,

Philip the Second dispatched the Spanish Armada. The

defeat of the Armada did not prevent the Spanish from

trying to colonize parts of South America and the islands

of the Caribbean.

On one of the Spanish expeditions led by Don Pedro

da Silva, a young sailor named Juan Martinez was watch-

ing an approaching storm. Great was the fury of that storm

and when it abated the entire crew, save one, was no

more. All but Juan Martinez perished. He barely survived

by clinging to a piece of floating wreckage. Days passed

under the hot, tropic sun until, finally, delirious and de-

hydrated, he drifted to land and was rescued by a strange

band of warriors. He had drifted into the estuary of that

mysterious South American river called the Orinoco.

It is said that Juan Martinez was taken to a city called

Manoa, ruled by a legendary figure known as El Dorado

— The Golden One. Beautiful, indeed, was the city. The

streets were paved with gold and the houses and temples

gloriously reflected the rays of the morning sun. Juan

Martinez lived for many years among the natives of this

land, eventually escaping one day to tell his story.

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One who heard the story of El Dorado was Sir Walter

Raleigh, friend and confidant of Elizabeth the First of

England. Many expeditions were made to the area on the

northern coast of South America called Guyana. It was

there that Sir Walter Raleigh and others believed the fabled

city of gold would be found.

In the search for El Dorado many lives were lost. In the

dense jungles of Guyana could be found bushes of Yellow

Allamanda and Red Amaryllis. There was also the waxen

petalled Cereus that blooms at midnight once in seven years,

then fades away with the rising sun. But a land of wealth

and ease or a golden city could not be found. For many

centuries the fight for Guyana continued until, in the end,

the country became a part of the British Empire.

In the meantime, the little boy Mahn Singh, who had

spent much time at the court of the Maharajah Jai Singh

the Second, had become an old man. His last days were

spent much like his earlier days, telling stories of dis-

tant lands, this time to his grandchildren and great-grand-

children. One great-grandson especially delighted in

asking questions of the elderly Mahn Singh. Though still

young in age, Jung Bahadur Singh would question Mahn

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Singh for hours about foreign lands and different peoples.

The younger Singh also learned about the heroes of the

Ramayana as well as the countries of the West where

many adventures awaited the brave and restless ones

who would dare to journey beyond the land of their birth.

Jung Bahadur Singh was in his twenties when he heard

that some of his people were traveling across the ocean to

work on the sugar plantations in a remote land known as

Guyana. Jung Bahadur Singh, great grandson of Mahn

Singh, took up the call and together with several other

stalwart young men, shipped off to the only British colony

in South America.

If conditions in India were difficult, conditions in

Guyana seemed almost impossible. From early morn to

late at night, Jung Bahadur Singh worked in the fields. He

raised his family as best he could. Battling the encroach-

ing jungles on one hand and the restless sea on the other

in order to save his little farm, he persisted and struggled

until the day he died. But the son of Jung Bahadur Singh

grew up in the little village by the ocean and remembered

the tales of the land from whence his father came.

The village grew and prospered and in time, the son of

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Jung Bahadur Singh named Harricharan Nian Singh,

planted his own crops and tended his own sheep and

cattle. The tides of time rolled on and eventually a son

was born to him. Nian Singh spent much time with his

son, who later in a radical departure from Hindu tradition,

would be called John. He taught him the ways of the West

and the wisdom of the East, believing that a blend of both

would be better than either one alone. Like his forefathers

before him, Nian Singh worked the fields and farms so that

he could afford to educate his son in the better schools of

the time. Much was learned by John and one day, like his

grandfather, he left the land of his birth and traveled to a

new land — The United States of America.

Strange is the pattern that the Weaver creates as strands

of time and space are woven together. Ever since I first

came to these shores, I’ve used a blend of Eastern and

Western philosophies that served me well, except for the

last few years or, perhaps I should say, in spite of the last

few years. When I first met Gideon, my career and financial

stability were being tested. I witnessed things that I had

spent a lifetime building, slowly crumble. Even meeting

God in the Big City had not prepared me for what was to

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follow. And what followed was absolutely devastating.

Gideon was far from my mind when my car was repossessed.

God seemed very distant as creditors hounded me daily.

All I had come to believe seemed to be disintegrating.

Anger, frustration, fear and unhappiness filled me to over-

flowing. Friends disappeared, leaving me to believe they

were never friends in the first place. The two or three

remaining ones helped as much as they could. Even broth-

ers and sisters raised their voices in anger and disgust

because of my inability to repay debts owed them. As

time passed, I was quickly turning into an outcast. I

remember vividly how, in the middle of one winter, my

wife and children huddled over a small electric heater

because the oil company had turned off our oil supply.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I pleaded, to no avail, with

the telephone company not to cut off our service. Where

was Gideon in the midst of all this?

The questions weren’t new and have been asked by thou-

sands of unfortunate people for centuries. Why must I suf-

fer so much? And if I had to suffer, why did my family and

friends have to endure with me? All I had tried to do was to

earn a decent living while treating my employees and others

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fairly. I had tried to live by the old injunction to “do justly,

love mercy and walk humbly with God.” But in spite of my

efforts it came crashing down — and fast. After the loss of

the company, the comfort and security we had known as a

family vanished as mist before the morning sun.

We lost our home and most of our possessions. We

sold a few remaining pieces of furniture in order to buy

groceries. One of the most difficult sacrifices I was forced

to make was to give away Rajah. It was he who had sat

beside me as I conversed with Gideon. Overwhelmed and

despondent, I began questioning everything I held sacred.

The question was not “Where was Gideon?,” but “Where

was God?” Eventually we moved to another state in a

desperate effort to start over.

And then, as a final blow, my father, descendant of

Mahn Singh of Bharat, passed away. Many were the sor-

rowful moments I spent alone but, even so, a new under-

standing was dawning. On quiet evenings as I drove home

from work I could still hear his voice in my head.

While commuting one evening, I was thinking how

scarce Gideon had become during my troubles. Why

couldn’t I see him when I needed him most? Suddenly

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the sound of sirens sent me searching my rear view mir-

ror. Startled, I saw the flashing lights of a state trooper

preparing to pull me over. Not now, not now! I can’t

afford a ticket. I must have been so absorbed in my

thoughts that I forgot about the speed limit. I pulled over

to the shoulder of the road and nervously fumbled through

the papers in the glove compartment as I awaited the

trooper. Apprehensively, I turned around to glance up at

the smiling face of the bearded man and almost dropped

the papers in total surprise. “I’ve been hijacked . . . Gideon!

You . . . What . . . I mean . . . .” I couldn’t continue. His

grin widened as I just stared, dumbfounded in amazement.

“Well, at least say ‘Hello,’ ” he demanded.

“It’s good to see you again but, for crying out loud,

where have you been?” I stammered.

“Just thought you could use a laugh and, as I recall,

you wanted to see me.”

“Where did you get this car?”

As if it was normal procedure, he calmly replied, “Cre-

ated it.” Ignoring his answer, I said, “I’ve got to talk to

you, but we can’t stay here.”

“That’s why I came. I’ll see you at ten tomorrow

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morning. Here’s the address. We’ll have lots of time to

talk then.” Handing me a piece of paper, he gave me a

slap on the shoulder, waved, turned around and walked

back to his car. I glanced at the address then up to the

rear view mirror. He was gone — vanished — just like he

used to.

I could hardly contain my excitement as I drove the

rest of the way home. Tomorrow I’d see him again. I had

lots of questions and this time I wanted answers. Tomor-

row we shall see, I thought as I pulled into my driveway.

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Chapter Thirteen

T

he morning arrived and I prepared for my meet-

ing with Gideon. I felt calm and composed yet,

there was an undercurrent of excitement that even I

couldn’t deny. Due to my recent relocation, I wasn’t famil-

iar with many of the local streets. Finally, out of frustra-

tion, I resorted to a local map and, having located the

street, got in my car and drove off.

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At the designated address, I walked up to the front

door and anxiously rang the bell. A gray-haired lady

opened the door, smiled at me and said, “Please come in.

You must be John. Gideon is expecting you.” I thanked

her and entered. I spotted Gideon in the living room and

walked over to shake his hand. Simultaneously he

stretched out his hand, smiled and motioned for me to

sit. Impatiently I fidgeted. The silence was overwhelm-

ing. Sometimes, a few seconds can seem like an eternity.

“So, how are you Gideon?” I finally asked. Anything to

start a conversation, I thought.

“As usual, John, I’m tending to business, doing the

things that need to be done,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, your business must have been very busy because

I haven’t heard from you in ages. Where were you during

the past few years, Gideon? I really could have used some

help. Somehow I felt abandoned, as good as betrayed, by

you and even by God. Remember, we met Him in the Big

City — or did we? Was it all nonsense . . . an illusion? My

tired mind playing cruel jokes on me?”

“No, not nonsense at all. Far from it. We were with

you all the time. You were so blinded by what appeared

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to be happening to you, so consumed in self-pity that

you weren’t even aware of our presence.”

I wanted to scream in anger, but managed to restrain

myself. “Gideon, I’ve been and still am going through a

minefield of confusion and suffering. Lost my homes,

lands, father, company and most of my dignity and self-

confidence. My wife was diagnosed with cancer. Her par-

ents are also being treated for cancer. There’s no medical

insurance — hardly any money. I mean, how much can

one person take? You don’t know what it’s like . . . you

probably don’t even care.”

He interrupted me, “Yes, I know about all of that.

But you gained strength, humility, wisdom and much

more. Jim Elliot, a martyr, once said, ‘He is no fool who

gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.’

The things that are important are still with you, even

more so today. Your dignity and self-confidence are

still with you, but most of all you’re regaining your sense

of purpose.”

“Sense of purpose about what?”

“About what you came here to do.”

“What I came here to do? Beats me. I have no idea

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what I came here to do, except, perhaps, to live and work

and struggle until I die.”

“Don’t you have a sense of something important you

must do in this lifetime?” he questioned.

“Oh sure, doesn’t everybody? Survive — get through

today so I can start over and struggle with tomorrow.

Anyway, why didn’t you stay around to help me when I

needed it? Why didn’t you tell me these things were going

to happen? You knew, didn’t you?”

“Of course, I knew. But if I had told you about them,

you probably would have given up and never reached

this point.”

“This point isn’t much better than any of the other

points along the way. As you can probably see, I don’t

earn enough money to even feed my family. It’s all I

can do to make ends meet. I’ve been struggling so

hard, but there never seems to be any progress. All I

do is struggle. Why are bad things happening all the

time, Gideon?”

“Bad things happen sometimes and good things can

happen most of the time. It’s how you look at it, John.”

“There you go again, more riddles. Why don’t you

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answer my questions? Haven’t bad things ever happened

to you?”

“Yes! Unpleasant things happened to me many times.

But that was when I wasn’t aware of who I was and all the

power I had at my command. It was only after I realized

that I was both the giver and the gift, the creator and the

creation, the teacher and the student, that I learned to

change the things that you call circumstances. Life then

became much more fun. You think that you have had

tough times! Let me tell you about tough times!

“It was another time and another place, thousands of

your earth years ago. It was the time of the Israelites and

the Midianites. For some reason, the Midianites had con-

quered my people and we suffered terribly. For seven long

years the Midianites would move across the land and destroy

everything in their path. They took our sheep and cattle,

our seed grain, all they could find. They killed our men,

raped our women and enslaved our children. In spite of all

that, we maintained our faith and kept on struggling.

“The Midianites would race over the land on fast-mov-

ing camels. They seemed numberless. Like locusts they

came, destroying and laying waste until we lost all hope.

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Now, my father Joash had hidden some grain from the

Midianites and one evening, while it was not quite dark,

I went near the wine press to thresh the grain so that we

could get some food. Near the wine press was a giant oak

tree. As I looked over to the oak tree, a man whom I had

never seen before stood up, walked over to me and raised

his hand in greeting. Always mindful of spies, I was deathly

afraid. But the man was smiling and he seemed friendly

enough. Perhaps, it was a messenger of God, but then I

was too frightened to ask.

“I stood there quivering as he said, ‘Hello, you mighty

man of valor, the Lord is with you.’

“I was puzzled by this greeting but summoned enough

courage to ask a question, similar to the one you asked

me earlier. ‘If the Lord is with me, how come the

Midianites destroy our land, kill our people and enslave

us? What would it have been like if the Lord hadn’t been

with me?’

“The answer he gave did not make sense at the time.

‘Go in your strength and save your people from the

Midianites,’ he said.

“I almost laughed, but seeing that the stranger was

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serious, I said, ‘My clan is the weakest in Manasseh and

I am the least important in my family. How can I

do anything?’

“The answer to my question is the same answer I give

to yours. The man said, ‘The Lord will be with you and

you shall smite the Midianites as one man.’

“You see, John, things were really bad. But that night I

started thinking if I really believed in myself and this power

that is called God, I could do anything. The rest is history

— how, with only three hundred fighting men, we put

the armies of Midian to flight. I then had all the wealth,

power and happiness I could desire and lived to a ripe

old age. When I died they laid me to rest in the tomb of

Joash, my father, at Ophra.”

“So, you lived on earth before this time, Gideon?”

“Of course, I did. Many times.”

“Do you remember all those times?”

“Only the ones I want to. But from each time, there

was something important to learn. From that experience

with the Midianites I learned the importance of believing

in myself and my God. I learned that no matter how bad

things appeared to be, if you choose to change them and

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if you have a sense of purpose, you can overcome. You’ve

had many lessons of this sort in other times but you’ve

forgotten them. It’s in remembering and applying what

you’ve already learned that you find the answers to your

present problems.”

“How do I go about remembering these things? And

how can these things be true?”

“What do you mean by ‘how can these things be true’?

Can you tell me how a tree grows, or how a bird flies?

Can you explain how the world works? Listen to your

heart and soul in your quiet times and you’ll see how

much you remember and how much you really know.

The door of the soul opens inward and meditation is the

key that unlocks that door. You’ve taught many people

how to meditate and yet, you don’t heed your own

instructions. ‘Physician, heal thyself!’”

In a humbled tone I asked, “Gideon, what’s happen-

ing to me?”

He looked at me with such compassionate eyes and

spoke in such sympathetic tones that I was somewhat

embarrassed at the way I’d lashed out at him. “Look,” he

said, “What’s happening to you is nothing that shouldn’t

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be happening. You’re discovering yourself again. You’re

going through a super laundromat — not a pleasant experi-

ence while it’s happening, but when you come out you’re

clean. Good gold must first go through the fire. You’ve

been through a lot of suffering. The time for tears is almost

over. Don’t give up now. You’re almost there.”

“Do you mean all the sorrowful events of the past few

years had a purpose?”

“Everything has a purpose even though you may not

always be aware of it. The honeybee thinks that it only

takes the nectar from the flower yet, in so doing, it polli-

nates and helps in the creation of fruits. There’s an

important reason for your being here. You must now start

to use some of the learning you’ve gained from your experi-

ences so that you can get on with the business of living a

joyful, fruitful, peaceful life.”

There was a knock at the door and in walked Marla

whom I hadn’t seen in years. I stood up and took her

extended hand. “John,” she said, “it’s so good to see

you again. For a while there, we thought you weren’t

going to pull through.” She smiled as she seated herself

next to Gideon.

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Gideon looked at Marla and asked, “How’s it going

with System 22?”

They both turned to me as Marla replied, “All goes

well. Perhaps John might enjoy a short visit there, don’t

you think?”

Gideon was serious as he replied, “I don’t know if he’s

ready yet, but I’ll check with the Chief.”

“What’s this System 22, Gideon?” I could feel some-

thing afoot.

“It’s an entirely different system from this one. How-

ever, some preparations must be made before you’re able

to go there. In fact, a trip has been scheduled for you. We

just have to double check to see if the time is right and if

you’re prepared. I’ll let you know more about it soon.”

I could see that further questions about System 22

wouldn’t be answered, so I didn’t pursue the issue. I felt

good seeing Gideon and Marla again. “Will I be seeing

you two more often now?” I asked.

“More often than you may want to,” Marla replied.

“And I’ve been asked to give you all the help you need

and to assist in your growth process.”

“That would really be a great help,” I blurted out happily.

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We said our good-byes and I left my other-worldly

friends still a bit baffled, but knowing that I would be

seeing them again soon.

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Chapter Fourteen

A

week had passed since my last meeting with

Gideon and Marla. Christmas was only a few

days away and we, like many other families, were pre-

paring for the occasion. Barely able to afford a tree, we

settled for a sorry-looking specimen and spent most of

the remaining weekend hanging ornaments, lights and

decorations. Tired but pleased that we were able to make

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the most of what we had, I fell into bed exhausted.

I must scarcely have fallen asleep when, all of a sud-

den, I was wide awake again. Being awake this time, how-

ever, was somewhat different. I appeared to be floating in

the air. Disorienting as this seemed at first, I somehow

felt a sense of curiosity and freedom. Gazing down, I saw

my body lying peacefully asleep between the sheets yet, I

was vibrantly awake, conscious and able to think. I peered

around me and found the room as I knew it. I seemed to

have a body, but it was much lighter than the one I was

accustomed to. Perhaps I had died, I thought, yet I felt

more alive than ever. I was beginning to panic when a

voice from within my head seemed to speak. “Look behind

you, John,” it said.

Immediately I turned around and saw Gideon and

Marla. “Don’t be afraid, my friend,” said Gideon. “You’re

experiencing what’s called an out-of-body situation. Your

body is resting perfectly safe on the bed while you’re here

with us. In this state we’re able to travel farther and faster

and, of course, more efficiently than if you’re in the physi-

cal body.”

Still a bit unsure, I asked Gideon, “Are you really sure

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it’s safe to be out of my body like this? I mean, isn’t there

a danger I might not be able to get back to it?”

“Not at all, John. You’re perfectly safe. As a rule, most

people do this during their sleep. However, most don’t

remember it when they wake up in the morning.”

“What’s the point then? Why am I doing it?”

Marla spoke up. I don’t mean that a voice echoed across

the room. Instead, I just seemed to hear her in my head.

“Let’s go to where it’s more comfortable and we’ll tell

you about the arrangements.” She reached out and took

my hand. Gideon grabbed the other one and, all of a sud-

den, the three of us were flying, literally, through the roof.

Over the house and above the trees we flew until, in a

blur, we were standing under a tree in a clearing. Nearby

drifted a gentle-flowing stream and the bright moon above

us shone on the beautiful, fleecy clouds. Enveloped in a

lovely, comfortable warmth, we were immune to tempera-

ture and weather. Behind me, stretching it seemed into

infinity, was a narrow silver light, somewhat like a shin-

ing cord. Gideon, as if reading my mind, said, “We’re

speaking to you with our thoughts, John. Without the

physical body, you have no need for physical voice or

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ears. You’ll hear us, and we you — as soon as thoughts

are directed. Incidentally, that shining cord you see, is

the silver cord that binds you to your physical body. Your

‘Life Force’ sustains the body through the silver cord.”

Marla interjected, “We use this method of travel when

there are special things to be accomplished. This is a trial

run for what you’ll be doing in a few days. Remember we

mentioned System 22 during our last meeting? Well, your

visit has been approved. We must tell you a little more

about it, however, before we take you there. Somewhat

like a mini-orientation.”

“Well, I’m listening,” I said.

“As you remember, you once visited the World Head-

quarters of G & M Enterprises,” she continued. “There

you met the Chief and had the pleasure of conversing

with Him personally.” I thought of how nice it would be

to just rest in an easy chair listening to Marla. The thought

had hardly occurred to me when I found myself reclin-

ing in a comfortable chair. Marla and Gideon were simi-

larly positioned.

Gideon announced, “When you’re out of your body as

you are now, John, your thoughts are materialized at the

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speed of light, or rather, at the speed of thought. The

same thing could happen when you’re in your body, of

course, but then you have to take into account the concept

called ‘time.’ So, controlling one’s thinking is as essential

here as it is there. As a man thinketh . . . , remember?”

“Wow! What a fantastic place!” I shouted. “Could I

think of all kinds of good stuff, fun things or whatever

and would they appear?”

“Here, immediately, there, sooner or later. But appear

they will, as sure as day follows night. By the same token,

however, if you focus on unpleasant things, they too will

be created. Just a universal law, John. Think and expect

good and you get it. Think and expect bad and you get

that, too. It’s a double edged sword, you see. You can’t

get one without also being able to get the other, or else,

where would your power of choice be? How could you

exercise choice if you were only given one possible choice?

Therefore, since the power of choice is one of the most

important gifts from your Creator, you must have at least

two choices and most times, many, many more. That’s

the simplicity and the complexity of it.

“Gee, Gideon, it’s not as simple as I thought after all.”

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“Simple it is, but easy it’s not. Most of your great teach-

ers throughout history have spoken about the wisdom of

managing and choosing one’s thoughts. Nevertheless,

most people still have lots to learn.”

Marla took up the conversation again. “When you

travel through time and space on earth, you don’t nec-

essarily have to leave your physical body. Remember

when you traveled to your old college and to the Ganges

River? You took your body with you because that was

local travel. If you were, however, to travel to a different

star system, it’s much more efficient to do it this way,

without the physical body.

“We were discussing just such a situation a few

moments ago. To go to the World Headquarters of G &

M Enterprises, you had no need for cosmic travel meth-

ods. However, System 22 is outside your star system and

is the Universal Headquarters of the Chief. From that loca-

tion, which isn’t really a place in the formal sense of the

word, the entire universe is monitored and adjusted

according to the thoughts and needs of its various inhab-

itants and life forms.”

“Is it like a super headquarters from which the Almighty

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manages his universe?” I blurted out, still curious, like a

child with a new toy.

“It’s only headquarters for one universe. There are many

universes and each one has its own support system. Ours

and yours is System 22.”

“How many universes are there altogether, Marla?”

“How many grains of sand are there in the desert? How

many stars in the heavens?” she quickly replied in answer

to my question.

We were all quiet for a while. I could ‘hear’ the sound

of the wind as it quietly moved through the leaves above

me. “Then there must be other civilizations and people

on other planets and star systems?” I asked.

“Yes, John,” Gideon responded. “There are many life

forms in many universes. They were designed to live in har-

mony with one another. Similarly, on earth there are many

life forms, each unique and having its own special place in

the scheme of things. Just as the ant is able to co-exist with

the elephant, mankind should be able to co-exist with one

another and also with the various other life forms.”

“Are some of the other civilizations more advanced than

ours, Gideon?”

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“ ‘Advanced’ is not the correct word. It would be more

accurate to use ‘aware,’ but for illustrative purposes let’s

use ‘advanced.’ Are some life forms on earth more

advanced than others, more highly evolved, if you will?

Of course there are. Similarly, in the universe there are

some civilizations far more advanced than yours. Also,

there are others far less evolved. Some are truly energy or

light beings, having no need for a body as you know it.

They’re so aware of their infinite power that they create

whatever they may need out of pure thought.

“Others are not as mature and still indulge in wars and

other less evolved behaviors. But they are all children of

the First Force and they’re all striving in one way or another

to achieve unity of purpose with their Creator. It’s the

same Creator who made you and us — The Chief Him-

self. We have instant access to Him.”

“Would it be possible to see Him again? I mean, like I

saw Him that time in the Big City?” I stammered.

“That’s the purpose of the trip to System 22. In a few

more days we’ll make a trip to our Universal Headquarters.

There the Chief will speak with you again and you’ll be

able to ask all the questions you want. Think and reflect

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on what you’ve heard tonight. We must take you back

now, but when the time comes for the journey we’ll let

you know.”

There was a hissing sound and a flash of light. I turned

over and was wide awake in bed. Marla and Gideon were

gone. Of one thing I was sure, however, it was not a dream.

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Chapter Fifteen

I

t was the day after Christmas. The morning was bitter

cold, but the golden rays of the sun bathed the trees

in a frosty, sparkling beauty. Somehow, deep within me,

I felt this was to be the day for my visit to System 22. Yet

nothing had happened to confirm my feelings.

Christmas day had been spent at home with the fam-

ily. It was exciting to help my children set up their toys. I

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reflected on the days of my childhood and how, with great

excitement, I would wait for Christmas day. With anx-

ious fingers, I would rip the wrappings from my gifts and

delight myself with wild imaginations of their contents.

Christmas hadn’t changed much with time, although, as

I grew older, the spirit of Christmas had taken on an

entirely commercial vein.

Today, however, Christmas was behind me and it was

time to return to the mundane world of commerce. This

evening, I thought, should be a peaceful one. It was a

quiet day at the office and after a good dinner, some time

with the family and a few household chores, I turned in

for the night and fell asleep.

Without warning, it happened again. I was wide awake

looking down at my body sleeping peacefully on the bed.

Standing next to me were Marla and Gideon. “It’s time for

us to go to System 22, John,” said Gideon. “Your body will

be at rest and perfectly safe while we’re gone. You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, and without further

ado, they each grasped one of my hands and we were off

again. We experienced the same flying sensation and sud-

denly there was the feeling of falling. Almost immediately,

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we were standing in a brightly-lit room of enormous

dimensions. The room was full of strangers. They were

talking to one another and occasionally glancing at vari-

ous giant screens on the wall. Two younger men walked

over and greeted us. “Your turn will come shortly,

Gideon,” one of them said. They led us into what appeared

to be a waiting room. It was tastefully decorated with

expensive furnishings that seemed to be of the same style

I saw at G & M Headquarters. We sat down and helped

ourselves to some freshly brewed coffee. The thought

occurred to me that even out of my body I enjoyed a

good cup of coffee.

“Gideon, what is this place?” I asked.

“This is the first step in the ‘translation’ process from

earth to the heavens,” he answered.

“What do you mean?” I was frankly puzzled.

“To reach System 22 from earth there are several trans-

fer points. Each person who wants to go or is invited to

visit must first go through one of these transfer points. I

don’t know the exact reason why, but I understand it has

something to do with space-time coordinates. Purely tech-

nical, I guess. There are a number of these locations here

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on earth and a few of them are in this country. Right now,

we’re in an area you call Arizona. There are also transfer

points in California, Virginia Beach and Massachusetts.

Two new ones are in the process of being completed in

Washington and Atlanta.

“Outside this country, other points are located, for

example, in Canada, England, Australia and India. A few

more in Africa, China and elsewhere. We chose Arizona

for no particular reason, except that we’re familiar with it.

You see, we’ve done this many times before. However,

we could have gone to any of the other points.

“You’ll notice that we all appear to have bodies. These

bodies are mental ones, not physical ones and, there-

fore, are not subject to the same time, space and den-

sity constraints as earth bodies. In fact, the earth body

is a physical image of your spirit body, somewhat

similar to the way a picture shows an actual scene.

From this transfer point we’ll go directly to System

22 where you’ll meet some very interesting people and,

finally, the Chief. I think they’re almost ready for us.

Let’s go.”

We stood up and walked over to one of the large

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screens, which was now glowing white. The two young

men we’d met earlier waved us on. Gideon, Marla and I

joined hands once again and before I could realize what

was happening, we walked right through the screen. I

mean, through the screen and into a different world.

Immediately there was complete darkness, a sound not

unlike music, then absolute silence. I was no longer afraid,

just extremely curious. After what seemed like an eter-

nity, but in reality couldn’t have been more than a few

seconds, we emerged into another brilliantly lit room simi-

lar to the one we’d just left. I turned to Gideon and said,

“We don’t seem to have gone anywhere.”

Smiling, he replied, “We’re light years away from where

we started.”

A delegation awaited us — a group of friendly people

who came forward and surrounded us. Searching the faces

around us, I was taken by surprise to find my father, look-

ing exactly as I knew him back on earth. He looked straight

into my eyes; I thought for sure I was dreaming. I became

overwhelmed by emotions as I rushed up and threw my

arms around him. I had missed him so much.

“No, you’re not dreaming, son,” he said to me.

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“You’re alive, Dad?” I said, more as a statement than

a question.

“As alive, as I ever was or will be,” he replied. He

seemed to be happy and at peace. The crowd parted as

we walked across the room toward a large door. As we

approached, the door opened automatically and we

proceeded into a scene of indescribable beauty. Although

we’d left the transfer point at night, it was now full day-

light. Perhaps, it’s less confusing not to analyze the mys-

teries of time and space.

Marla said, “We’ll be back with you shortly, John,”

and she and Gideon vanished, leaving me alone with my

Dad. I looked at the man who had raised me and taught

me so much about life. Was it the light again or did he

seem to be surrounded by a faint, silvery aura?

“Sit down, son,” he said as he pointed toward a bench

beneath a tree. “Tell me how you’ve been.”

“Well, to say the least, I’ve been having a real rough

time, Dad. I don’t know how, but I’m sure things will

work out eventually. What’s this place and what are you

doing here?” Somehow, I felt that he already knew how I

was doing.

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“This is a reception center for visitors from various parts

of the universe. I’ll be here for a while. I chose this assign-

ment because of the opportunities for growth and learn-

ing, but I have to admit it’s also fun.”

“Why did you leave us so suddenly, Dad? Don’t you

know how much all of us miss you, especially Mom? She

speaks of you all the time. Recently, she was very ill, but

she’s doing much better now. I think she misses you more

than everyone else put together.”

I seemed to catch a glimpse of sadness in his eyes as

he said, “It was time for me to go on.” He was quiet for a

short while as if reflecting on what I’d said. Then he con-

tinued, “I’d completed as much of my earth work as I

could and there was nothing else for me to do. From

here, it’s possible to help you and the others much more

than I was able to do while I was there. I watch over your

mother constantly. It’ll be a few more years before she

joins me, but you’ve just started your work. All that came

before was just preparation. Your visit here is the next

step. It’s like a graduation before going on to other, more

complex work.

“I’ll be with you whenever you need me. Just call me

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in your thoughts like you called me aloud when you were

a little boy. I’ll answer and help you as I always did. I

never really left you at all; it only seems that way. When-

ever you want to talk with me, find a quiet spot, close

your eyes and see the house in the old country and the

coconut palm growing by the edge of the little stream. I’ll

meet you under the tamarind tree and we’ll discuss what-

ever it is that’s troubling you.

“There are others here who’ll be helping you, too. I’ve

known Gideon and Marla from many lifetimes. There is

also a group of three called the Companions. I know you

see them often in your dreams. They always bring you

valid information that very often you choose to ignore.

They are your higher self — your guiding, knowing self.

Everyone has several helpers. You’re aware of some of

yours, but most people never discover the help that is

available to them until they cross over to this side.”

“Dad, I feel like crying — not tears of sadness, but

tears of joy.”

“There’s no need for tears at all. The Chief is all Love

and Joy. You, son and the others on earth are the ones

who believe that life is supposed to be a vale of tears and

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suffering. The Loving Force only wants for you that which

you desire for yourselves. Some of you choose sadness

and others happiness.”

There was such peace and serenity surrounding us as

we sat there. It seemed as though he’d always been alive;

that he’d lived forever, this dad of mine whom I miss

terribly. I knew then that he’d never really died and I

could always meet or see him whenever I wanted.

“Keep working, learning and growing, son,” he

continued. “Never give up. You’ve heard it said ‘When

the student is ready, the teacher will appear.’ I believe

‘When the teacher is ready, the master will appear.’ You’ll

be meeting with the Chief soon. Then you will know that

we’re all one. You’ll understand you’ve never been sepa-

rated from your Creator; that you and He are one.

“We must go now. Gideon and Marla are coming for

you and the Lord is waiting.”

Gideon and Marla reappeared as suddenly as they had

left. My dad hugged me warmly and patted me on the

back. Tears fell from the corners of my eyes as he said

good-bye. It was so good just to see him again. Of course,

it was obvious now that he was not dead, but transformed.

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As the butterfly lives within the caterpillar, so, now he

was a butterfly of the universe instead of a caterpillar of

Earth. “We wanted you to spend some time alone with

him, J.H.,” Gideon said. “Now we’ll go to see God.” He

paused, winked at me, then continued, “the Chief, First

Cause, Creator and All That Is.”

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Chapter Sixteen

T

ogether we walked along a lovely pathway in a

garden of exquisite beauty. Flowers with the most

delicate forms blended their exotic scents to perfume the

air with an ever so subtle fragrance. Surely, I thought,

Eden must have looked like this. Birds with brilliant-col-

ored plumes sang while painted butterflies danced in flut-

tering pirouettes creating a rainbow of colors.

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We crossed a nearby clearing into the midst of a gar-

den party. The tables and chairs were neatly arranged

beneath the tangle of outstretched branches which served

as a sheltering canopy. The comforting sounds of talking

and laughter rang out all around us. As we approached a

table on the far side of the clearing, a stillness fell over the

crowd. A closer look indicated that there was but one

person sitting at that table. That person was God, appear-

ing just as I had seen Him in the Big City. “Hello, Lord,

What are you doing sitting all alone?” I asked.

“Sometimes it gets lonely being God. Please sit,” He

said gesturing in our direction. We pulled up chairs and

joined Him.

“Where are we? Could this place be heaven, Lord?”

I asked.

“No. This isn’t heaven. Heaven is neither here nor there.

Let me assure you, heaven is closer to you than you think.

It’s within you. All of this comes from what’s within you.

Both heaven and hell are within your mind. All you have

to do is choose which you’d like to have.”

“Bless you, Lord,” was all I could say. Realizing how

ridiculously stupid I must have appeared, I quickly

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apologized. “Don’t be embarrassed, John. It’s generally

the intent that’s important,” said God.

“Thank you, Sir,” I replied as Marla and Gideon giggled

in amusement at my predicament.

“Why don’t you say something, Gideon?” I asked, feel-

ing at a loss for words.

“This is your party, John. We’re celebrating your visit.”

Looking at God, I said, “Lord, I’m so happy to be here.

When I return home, I’ll spend my life building a temple

where we can worship and praise you.”

“That’s very kind of you,” He said, “but whatever gave

you the idea that I dwell in temples or that I want to be

worshipped and praised? Look, I really get bored with

this praise thing. Instead of building me a temple, why

don’t you feed the hungry, help the poor, heal the sick

and teach those who want to learn? Wouldn’t that be

more useful than a temple?”

God continued, “I’ve invited a number of others to be

our guests and to join in our celebration. Let me intro-

duce some of them.” He stood up and pointed to various

tables, calling names. “There is Abraham and over there

are Moses and Annabelle. Next to them you can see

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Thomas and Krishna. And over on the other side Rama,

Mohammed, Gautama and Jacob. To our right, under that

oak tree are Jesus, Peter, Paul, Elizabeth the First, Joan of

Arc, Gandhi and Mary of Magdala. Sitting with them are

Martin Luther King, Confucius, Jennifer Thompson, Ben-

jamin Franklin and Joseph Rigby. These are some of my

children, my friends and helpers. After tea, you should

go around and meet them.”

“How can they all be at the same party, Lord?” I asked,

“I mean, Krishna and the Buddha conversing with

Mohammed and Jesus? And who are Joseph, Jennifer

and Annabelle?”

“They’re all created in my image. Each is as important

as the other. The famous names, you recognize. The other

three, though not mentioned in history books, are still

quite as dear to me. They were just simple folks, each one

trying to fulfill his or her mission. This is a cooperative

universe, not a competitive one, John. For someone to be

richer, another doesn’t have to be poorer. For you to be

healthy, no one has to be sick. There’s enough and more

than enough for everyone. In the game of life, all can win

and all can receive prizes.”

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“This is important; I’ve got to try to remember it all. Is

this a dream or will I forget when I wake up?”

“No, this isn’t a dream. And yes, you’ll forget some,

but not all. The important parts will stay in your memory

for the rest of your earth life. Tolerance, harmony and

understanding, these are some of the important things.

Learn to understand yourself and you’ll find it easier to

understand everything else.

“Earth life appears to be so difficult at times for those

who are there. Yet, there’s no need for suffering and pain.

Suffering should only teach you that you didn’t really have

to suffer in the first place. Help is always available if you

choose to ask for it, so ask, seek and knock. You have

allies in many dimensions who are more than willing and

able to help you when you’re caught in a difficult situa-

tion. When you need help, ask for it. And, of course, I,

too, am always there to assist you.”

I interrupted God at this point. “Lord, You say we

should ask for help, but I’ve asked many times and, yet,

it seemed that there wasn’t any answer. I seemed to have

been worse off than before asking. Why is that so?”

“It’s very simple indeed. Many times you ask without

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believing that you’ll get an answer. Sometimes you don’t

think that you deserve an answer. At other times, you’re

pleading and begging and talking so much that you can’t

hear the answer.

“Then there are those times when you’re like your son

who has just broken his toy train. He asks you to fix it for

him, but he holds on to it and won’t give it to you. In

fact, he even tells you how to fix it. You want a problem

solved? Then don’t hold on to it. Release it to me and go

about your work. Let go and let God.”

“Do You mean it’s that simple? Just let go? That makes

sense though. I think I’ll try it,” I stammered.

“You always have enough to do what has to be done

— more than enough, actually, to take care of all your

needs and wants. Sometimes you go through trials, but

that’s only to strengthen parts of you and to give you a

deeper understanding. You’re never alone. I am with you

always. When you’re down in the arena and your face is

in the dust and the crowds are booing, don’t give up.

When they laugh at you and ridicule you and say all man-

ner of vile things against you, don’t give up. When you

feel the boot of your opponent on your neck, when you

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feel that life isn’t worth living any longer, remember this

— it’s not over yet. Never let go of hope. Hope keeps

mighty big company with faith and love. Get a faith-lift if

you must and don’t abandon hope.”

“You say that You’re always with me and Your other

children. Yet, I don’t always see You as I see You now. In

fact, I had to travel through transfer points on earth to get

here. Gideon told me that we’re somewhere on the third

star of the Aldebaran System. Do You know how far I

figure we must be from earth, Lord? Very, very far. If You

are always with me, why do I have to travel so far to see

You. How can You hear when I call?”

“Precisely the point I want to make clear, John. You

didn’t have to go through transfer points or travel great

distances to see me. You believed that was the only way

to do it, so we accommodated your beliefs. As you believe,

so it is. You’re on Aldebaran and you’re on earth. You’re

everywhere and nowhere. Your essence and nature span

the universe itself and, like Me, you can be everywhere

and everywhen. Even when you seem to be ‘nowhere’

you are still ‘now-here.’

“Beliefs are extremely important. You think that you

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believe what you see. In reality, you see what you believe.

Instead of trying to ‘set’ things right, try to ‘see’ them

right and they’ll automatically be set right. See your prob-

lems and challenges through Me instead of seeing Me

through them.

“You tend to think of yourselves as a people of begin-

nings and endings. And yet, there is neither. That which

you love will continue forever just as surely as that which

you hate. Do away with what you don’t want by ceasing

to hate it. There is only one power and one force in the

universe and I AM THAT. I created you in My image and

likeness so YOU ARE THAT.

“The power to heal and prosper you, to guide and help

you isn’t in the skies. It is and always has been within

you. I am within you. All you need to do is to become

aware that I am there. There is mountain-moving power

in each and every one of My children. You are a part of

Me and, yet, at times, you think yourselves apart from

Me. You are made as I am. That which I do, you can do

also. You are all co-creators with Me.

“You wonder about prayer at times and think that it

must be magical. There’s no magic in it. It’s a method I

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gave to you so that you could reach Me anytime you

want. It was designed to bring you to the realization

that you should be aware of Me all the time. Prayer does

not change Me, it changes you. Use it as it was origi-

nally taught. Come first to yourself and then you’ll find

that you have come to Me.

“You are a child of the King, a prince of the realm. All

of you are children of the King and thus princes and prin-

cesses. To understand the so-called mysteries of life, you

just have to be aware of your birthright. Look at the trees,

the mountains and the skies. You should know that long

before they were, you have been and long after they’re

gone, you shall continue to be.”

God continued, “Perhaps, it would help you to under-

stand better if you walk around a bit and talk to some of

My other children. Many of them have gone through a lot

worse than you have and, yet, they emerged victorious.

Enjoy the party, John. Life is really a celebration.”

Listening to God again was an experience never to be

forgotten. Marla, Gideon and I walked over to a number

of tables and spoke with some of the people. It was de-

lightfully refreshing to converse with some of the great

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John Harricharan

personalities of all time. I walked over to Jesus who

was having a conversation with the Buddha. “Pardon

m

e

for interrupting,” I said. “I’m somewhat surprised to

see the two of you at the same party. Do you have a lot

in common?”

“More than most people would like to believe,” said

the Buddha.

“Lord Christ, could you explain to me why you had to

die on a cross?” I asked.

“I didn’t have to die, not on a cross nor anyplace else.

As you can see, John, I’m far from dead. My followers, if

you look over there,” as he pointed to Peter and Paul, “Were

a group of pretty somber folks and I had to make quite an

impression on them. I had to make sure they got the mes-

sage and were going to teach others about the laws of life.

They quickly forgot the ‘miracles and parables,’ but my

so called ‘death and resurrection’ gave them the incentive

they needed to spread the message. Naturally, after all

was said and done, somewhere along the way their fol-

lowers got everything mixed up. They started worship-

ping me instead of teaching and living what I’d taught

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them. The same thing happened to my friend here, Prince

Gautama, or as he’s more commonly known, the

Buddha.”

The Buddha took up the conversation. “When I first

began to understand the laws of the universe, I was sit-

ting under a Bodhi tree. I thought how wonderful it would

be to share what I’d found. But those who came after me

interpreted and misinterpreted what I tried to say. You

can’t even recognize some of the things I taught them.

Well, there’ll be others of us who’ll keep trying. To raise

ourselves higher, we must endeavor to raise the conscious-

ness of the entire human race.”

“Will you still help us then?”

“I, Jesus and others, will always be with you to help, if

you call upon us. Just believe that we’re with you, and

there we are. No need for meaningless sacrifices and ritu-

als. You have direct access to the Chief, direct access to

any of us. Only believe and know that this is so.”

Confucius came over and joined in the conversation.

“Listen, John,” he said. “We’ve all been trying to say the

same thing for ages. The Buddha’s message was love. Jesus

exemplified this best. He taught about love. Love your

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John Harricharan

God. Love your neighbor. Love yourself. Remember the

Golden Rule? Love is the most powerful force in the

universe. The whole thing is very simple. People must

learn that they are all shipmates on the common voyage

of life and that they cannot sink their shipmates without

sinking themselves. Ask Gandhi over there and he’ll tell

you. You must love without expecting anything in return.

Ask God. He loves us exactly as we are. You should try

love sometimes. Work on love, John. Don’t try to teach

people how to love. Just show them by example.”

God walked over to us while tea was being served.

Beside Him was a tall, remarkable looking fellow. “John,”

God said, “I want you to meet Lord Michael. You and

your legends know him as the archangel, Michael. Don’t

be surprised that he hasn’t any wings. He only uses wings

when there’s a need for such appearances.” I bowed with

reverence and thought to myself that it wasn’t possible

for God, His angels and others to be speaking with me.

How could this be? I, a relatively insignificant human

being, talking with God?

Immediately God answered my unspoken question. “I

speak to all,” He said, “And I speak through all. Do you

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see Peter over there? They used to call him Simon. I

spoke to him and, through him, I spoke to many others.

He was just a common fisherman, you say? But what a

fisherman! When he became aware of my presence

through the teachings of Jesus, he spoke in thunder

tones of truth. How about Paul? At one time they called

him Saul of Tarsus. He was formally educated, having

studied under Gamaliel at the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem.

Gautama was a prince in India. Even Mary of Magdala

heard and understood me.

“Look at Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. See how

quietly he sits? A simple lawyer, you say he was? A law-

yer, yes, but much more aware of universal laws than petty,

man-made laws. Laws were made for people, not people

for laws. He spoke of non-violence and love and millions

of people listened to him. And Jesus? He was born the

son of a carpenter and, yet, hundreds of millions of you

believe in him. I wish more of you would believe in what

he said. I speak to you and I speak through you. We

speak for each other.

“Speak the truth wherever you may find it. Seek the

truth wherever it is to be found. Don’t confuse facts with

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John Harricharan

truth. Facts may not even be facts at all. Most times,

they’re just opinions. Facts are relative. Truth is abso-

lute. Instead of trying to force your facts on others, help

them to find truth for themselves.

“You’re all brothers and sisters on a common journey

toward your true potential. You have the power of God

with you. You’ve always had it. You’re as free as you ever

will be. If your experience seems to be lacking in this

freedom, it’s only because you have been fettered in chains

of your own forging. Lift up your head and look. See with

your true eyes and you’ll never again be in bondage to

yourself or to another. My will for you is really your own

will for yourself.

“All power in heaven and earth have been given to

you. All, except one. You don’t have the power to destroy

life, even your own. No one has that power. It is Mine

and Mine alone. Life is My greatest gift to you and I per-

mit no one to destroy it. Even when it appears that life

has been destroyed, it’s only an illusion you see.

“There are those who say that they’ve found Me and

rejoice in their discovery. They’ve only found themselves

for I’ve never been lost. You, my son, are as valid as I am.

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When You Can Walk on Water, Take the Boat

When you can honestly say to yourself, ‘I and my Father

are One,’ then you’ll be a master of the universe. You see,

I am you in spirit as much as you are Me in becoming.”

God ceased speaking and the party grew quiet. Then

all of a sudden, I was alone. But there was an overwhelm-

ing sense of power and knowing within me. A voice, still

and small, spoke in my head, “We are one — all in one

and one in all. The good that you do, you do for yourself.

The evil that one does is his alone.”

Suddenly, I was startled to find myself in my bedroom,

wide awake. It was now very late and I had experienced

much and, hopefully, learned a lot. Perhaps, I shall again

see Gideon and Marla. But now I know that, forever and

ever, they and those I love will always be with me; that

God has always been, is, and always will be with me.

It was time to be about my work, to seek the bliss

beyond the appearances of the now. This is not an end-

ing. It’s not even the beginning of an ending. It’s simply

a beginning and so be it.

The End? The Beginning? You choose

On the next page is a letter from the author.

It will take less than a minute to read.

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A letter from the author

Dear Reader:

If you have arrived at this point, you have
traveled far. You’ve sat in on conversations
with Gideon and Marla and you’ve seen John
as he struggled to make sense of what
appeared, at times, to be a senseless world.
But this is not the end. If you recall, the last
paragraph of “When You can Walk on Water,
Take the Boat” spoke of “endings” and
“beginnings.”

Every ending implies a new beginning.
Every beginning is the start of a glorious
adventure. And the adventure never ends.
Like all adventures, there are moments of
fear, joy, peace, sorrow, turmoil, anxiety,
anticipation and any emotion you could
think of. This is life.

If you take a moment or two, every once in
a while, to sit still and listen to your heart,
you’d find that your world is safe and that

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there is no problem without a solution. But
you’ve got to learn to trust—trust life, your
God, your very being. And as you trust,
you’ll see that your problems start to disap-
pear as mist before the morning sun.

If you enjoyed “When You Can Walk on
Water, Take the Boat,” tell your friends.
They can download their own personal
copies from my website. All they have to do
is go to

http://www.waterbook.com

Is this the end--the final appearance--for
Marla, Gideon and John? No, indeed! The
adventures continue in the sequels, “Morn-
ing Has Been All Night Coming” and “Jour-
ney in the Fields of Forever.” To find out
more about these books, please visit

http://www.waterbook.com/sequel

and

http://www.waterbook.com/sequel-2

My latest book is called “The Power Pause--
3 Minutes, 3 Steps to Personal Success and
Real Happiness.” Like my other books, it’s
written in story form and explains the
amazing, simple formula to achieve your
greatest dreams. Find out more about it at

http://www.powerpause.com

background image

Thank you. Thank you, dear reader for joining
me on this journey. Perhaps we shall meet
again. May your journey be filled with all good
things.

Always.

John H.

John Harricharan
JHH & Associates, Inc
6199 Highway 92, Suite 188-399
Acworth, GA 30102

Phone: 770-591-7650
Fax: 770-591-7858
Email:

john@waterbook.com

Web:

http://www.insight2000.com

P.S. Visit my photo pages on the web at

http://www.mindmarketing.com/picturepages.html


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